THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


WILD    NEIGHBORS 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


OUT-DOOR  STUDIES  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 


BY 


ERNEST   INGERSOLL 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  LIFE  OF  ANIMALS  :  THE  MAMMALS, 

"  WILD  LIFE  OF  ORCHARD  AND  FIELD,"  "  THB 

WIT  OF  THE  WILD,"  ETC. 


'I3ooka  must  folio  to  Sciences,  anD  net  Sciences  iSoofcs." 

BACON. 


ffcrfe 
THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON :  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 

1906 
AU  rights  reserved 


Q.L5TO 


COPYRIGHT,  1897, 1906, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  1897. 
New  Edition,  revised,  October,  1906. 


ICorfacol)  3Prt0* 

J.  S.  Gushing  <te  Co.  —  Herwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


i 


WHO   HAS  BEEN 

MY  MOST   ENCOURAGING   CRITIC 

AND   MY  BEST  FRIEND 

lt 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

THE  substance  of  several  of  the  essays,  or  of  parts  of 
them,  that  follow,  has  been  printed  heretofore  in  The  Field 
(of  London),  Harpers  Magazine,  The  Popular  Science 
Monthly,  The  Evening  Post  (of  New  York),  or  Frank  Leslie >s 
Popular  Monthly.  The  author  desires  to  credit  these  publi- 
cations with  this  priority,  and  to  thank  them  for  permitting 
him  to  make  this  new  and  revised  use  of  the  material. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

PACK 

OUR  GRAY  SQUIRRELS i 

American  Gray  and  Red  Squirrels. 

CHAPTER   II 

THE  FATHER  OF  GAME 33 

The  Puma,  Cougar,  or  American  Panther. 

CHAPTER   III 

THE  SERVICE  OF  TAILS .      61 

Their  Use  and  Importance  to  various  Creatures'. 

CHAPTER   IV 

THE  HOUND  OF  THE  PLAINS 99 

The  Coyote,  or  American  Prairie  Wolf. 

CHAPTER  V 

THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN 119 

The  American  Badger  and  other  Burrowers. 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VI 

PACK 

ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  ANIMAL  INTELLIGENCE    .        .        .157 
Observations  upon  Animals  in  Menageries. 

CHAPTER   VII 

A  WOODLAND  CODGER 186 

The  Canada  and  other  American  Porcupines. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED 209 

With  Special  Reference  to  his  Means  of  Defence. 

CHAPTER    IX 

A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER 251 

The  Woodchuck,  Groundhog,  or  Maryland  Marmot. 

CHAPTER  X 

A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR 272 

Raccoons  and  'Coon-hunting. 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A  CANADA  PORCUPINE Frontispiece 

From  a  Photograph  by  Sanborn. 

SUMMER   LEAF-NEST  OF  THE  GRAY   SQUIRREL  .           .        Opposite  14 

From  a  Photograph  by  Brownell. 

SKULL  OF  A   GRAY   SQUIRREL 21 

MALABAR  SQUIRREL Opposite  29 

From  a  Photograph  by  Sanborn. 

HEAD   OF  A   RED   SQUIRREL 30 

THE  PUMA  —  THE  "FATHER  OF  GAME"             ....  32 

From  a  Photograph  by  Sanborn. 

A  PUMA— KEMEYS'S   STATUE              ....        Opposite  50 
From  a  retouched  Photograph  by  Eldred  S.  Bates. 

ZUNI   FETICHES   OF  THE  PUMA 56 

AN   OPOSSUM  AND   HER  YOUNG 60 

THE  GREAT   ANT-EATER 65 

A   HORSE-SHOE  CRAB,   USING   ITS  TAIL  AS  A  LEVER           .           .  7! 

THE  JERBOA    KANGAROO 75 

A   SEA-HORSE  ANCHORED   BY   ITS  TAIL 78 

SPINY  TAIL  OF  A   SWIFT 79 

THE  THRESHER   SHARK 82 

ARMED   TAIL  OF  THE  STING-RAY 9O 

A  JERBOA,   SHOWING  TUFTED  TAIL 94 

xi 


Xii  LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A   FAMILY  OF  COYOTES 98 

THE  AMERICAN   BADGER II 8 

Drawn  by  Harley  D.  Nichols. 

FOUR  COMMON   SHREWS 126 

HEADS  AND   FEET  OF  MOLES 129 

SKULL  OF  THE  BADGER 139 

A  WOODCHUCK  AT  DINNER Opposite  148 

From  a  Photograph  by  Sanborn. 
ELEPHANTS  PILING  LOGS   UPON   RAILWAY  CARS          .  .  .156 

Drawn  by  Harley  D.  Nickoh. 

THE  CANADA  PORCUPINE 187 

Drawn  by  Harley  D.  Nichols. 

SKULL  OF  THE  CANADA  PORCUPINE 197 

THE  COMMON   NORTHERN   SKUNK 2O8 

Drawn  by  Harley  D.  Nichols. 

SKULL  OF  A  SKUNK 2l6 

WESTERN   SKUNK  PELTS Opposite  235 

"  WHO  OWNS  THE  CLOVER  PATCH  ?  " 250 

From  a  Photograph  by  Sanborn. 

SKULL  OF  THE  WOODCHUCK 259 

THE  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR 273 

From  a  Photograph  by  Fisher. 

SKULL  OF  THE  RACCOON 287 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


OUR  GRAY  SQUIRRELS 

DOWN  past  my  window,  as  I  sit  writing  beside 
it,  falls  a  twig  from  the  black  oak  at  the  corner 
of  the  house.  Half  a  minute  later  another  sinks 
wavering  downward,  buoyed  by  its  broad  leaves, 
which  are  green  and  healthy.  This  happens  in 
July,  far  in  advance  of  their  natural  time  to  fall. 
What  is  the  cause  ?  A  glance  informs  me.  One 
of  our  gray  squirrels  is  out  on  the  end  of  an  over- 
hanging limb,  and  I  am  just  in  time  to  see  him 
bite  off  another  leafy  twig  and  carry  it  away.  It 
is  evident  that  he  had  dropped  the  other  one  acci- 
dentally. What  is  he  doing  ?  I  vault  out  of  the 
window,  and  keep  him  in  view  as  he  makes  his 
way  nearly  to  the  summit  of  a  tall  white  oak, 
where  he  leaves  his  branch  as  a  contribution  to  a 
half  bushel  or  so  of  sticks  and  leaves  lodged  in  a 
convenient  notch.  Another  squirrel  is  there,  and 
together  they  scramble  over  the  mass,  packing  and 
entangling  it  together,  and  occasionally  disappear- 


2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

ing  into  its  interior,  showing  that  it  is  hollow. 
There  seems,  however,  to  be  no  special  entrance, 
the  inmates  pushing  their  way  into  the  centre,  and 
escaping  from  it  wherever  it  seems  easiest  to  part 
the  twigs.  I  have  never  seen  more  than  one  pair 
at  work  upon  any  one  nest.  The  work  is  done 
mainly  in  the  early  morning,  and  the  task  is  ac- 
complished very  speedily. 

I  know  this  particular  pair  of  squirrels  very 
well.  They  have  been  tenants  of  the  grove  ever 
since  we  came  to  live  in  this  edge  of  the  city, 
and  though  the  town  has  now  grown  beyond  and 
around  us,  and  the  grove  is  given  a  perpetual 
moonlight  from  the  electric  lamp  on  the  corner, 
the  trees  and  bushes  remain.  In  midsummer  they 
may  indulge  their  fondness  for  toadstools,  upon 
which,  during  August,  they  seem  almost  wholly 
to  subsist.  Nuts  and  acorns  come  with  each  re- 
turning autumn,  and  in  midwinter  provender  is 
spread  upon  friendly  window-sills. 

Almost  the  only  advantage  the  squirrels  have 
taken  of  civilization,  however,  has  been  to  occupy 
the  boxes  that  my  benevolent  neighbor,  Dr.  J.  P. 
Phillips,  has  put  up  for  them  in  the  trees,  which 
are  tenanted  more  or  less  all  the  year  round,  one 
family  occupying  each  box  and  tree  by  itself  as 
long  as  it  wishes,  and  putting  in  its  own  furniture 
—  a  new  bedroom  set  of  grass  and  soft  leaves.  Of 
these  boxes  they  distinctly  prefer  those  which  are 
simply  sections  of  hollow  logs,  probably  because 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  3 

nearest  like  the  natural  cavities  in  decayed  tree- 
trunks  chosen  (in  cold  latitudes)  by  the  squirrels 
as  their  home ;  but  as  none  of  our  pets  had  been 
forest  bred,  this  preference  seems  to  have  been 
dictated  by  an  inherited  taste.  By  midsummer 
these  tenements  become  so  hot  and  vermin-infested 
that  the  squirrels  leave  them  and  construct  bowers 
of  leaves,  as  my  friends  in  the  oak  were  doing 
when  they  attracted  my  attention ;  and  they  occa- 
sionally inhabit  them  all  winter,  when  the  family 
nestles  into  the  fluffy  mass  of  loose  leaves  and 
grass  forming  the  centre  of  the  ball,  and  thus 
keeps  warm. 

Though  their  nests  and  burrows  become  more 
or  less  infected  with  vermin,  all  our  squirrels  are 
exceedingly  cleanly  animals,  and  spend  much  time 
in  rubbing  their  faces  and  cleansing  their  own  fur 
and  that  of  their  young  ones.  "  When  they  acci- 
dentally step  into  the  water,"  writes  Godman,  "they 
make  use  of  their  bushy  tail  for  the  purpose  of 
drying  themselves,  passing  it  several  times  through 
their  hands." 

This  squirrel  is  the  one  which  in  the  older  books 
is  called  the  Northern  gray  squirrel,  Sciurus  migra- 
torijis,  in  contrast  with  the  Southern  gray  squirrel. 
Several  other  closely  related  species  have  been 
described  from  the  interior  and  the  Pacific  coast, 
besides  the  very  distinct  "fox,"  "red,"  "flying," 
and  other  sharply  distinguished  members  of  the 
family.  Certain  differences  of  size  and  coat  notice- 


4  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

able  between  types  of  our  gray  squirrel  from  widely 
separated  regions,  accompanied  by  local  peculiari- 
ties of  habit,  at  first  misled  naturalists,  but  only  one 
species  is  now  recognized,  —  Sciurus  carolinensis. 

The  first  litter  of  young  among  the  wild  gray 
squirrels  is  seen  in  March  in  the  warmer  parts  of 
the  country,  and  somewhat  later  in  the  more  north- 
ern States  and  in  Canada.  At  least  one  more 
brood  usually  follows  before  winter.  Our  friends 
in  the  grove,  however,  sure  of  food  and  lodging, 
bring  out  their  broods  with  little  regard  to  season. 
One  female,  which  has  been  known  to  us  for  years 
as  the  "mother  squirrel,"  seems  rarely  without  a 
family ;  and  Dr.  Phillips  assures  me  that  he  has 
known  her  to  bear  four  litters  in  a  single  twelve- 
month, thus  braving  all  sorts  of  weather. 

This  exhibits  the  hardihood  of  these  little  ani- 
mals. No  weather  seems  cold  enough  to  daunt 
them.  They  endure  the  semi-arctic  climate  north 
of  Lake  Superior,  remain  all  the  year  on  the  peaks 
of  the  Adirondacks,  where  their  only  food  is  the 
seeds  of  the  black  spruce,  and  appear  in  midwinter 
in  Manitoba;  but  when  a  sleet  storm  comes,  and 
every  branch  and  twig  is  encased  in  ice,  then  the 
squirrel  stays  at  home.  I  remember  one  such  storm 
which  was  of  unusual  severity  and  did  vast  damage. 
The  ice  clothed  the  trees  for  several  days  in  suc- 
cession, and  the  imprisoned  animals  became  very 
hungry.  The  Doctor  and  I  had  swung  from  tree 
to  tree  a  line  of  bridges  made  of  poles  along  which 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  5 

the  squirrels  scampered,  no  less  to  their  delight 
than  to  ours,  often  leaping  one  over  the  other  with 
extraordinary  agility  and  grace  when  two  met  on 
this  single-track,  air-line  road. 

One  of  these  bridges  led  to  a  window-sill  in  each 
residence,  where  food  was  often  spread,  and  it  was 
amusing  to  see  the  circumspection  with  which,  at 
last,  they  crept  toward  it  along  the  icy  poles,  dig- 
ging their  claws  into  the  glazed  surface,  and  often 
slipping  astride  or  almost  off  the  bridge. 

In  the  tree-tops,  where  they  rush  and  leap  at 
full  speed,  they  are  by  no  means  safe  from  falling, 
but  usually  manage  to  catch  hold  somewhere,  often 
by  only  a  single  toe,  apparently,  yet  are  able  to  lift 
the  body  up,  like  gymnasts,  to  a  firmer  foothold. 
Their  strength  is  remarkable,  especially  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  great  hams,  whose  development  ac- 
counts for  the  really  astonishing  leaping  powers 
these  animals  possess. 

Should  they  fall  clear  to  the  ground,  as  some- 
times happens,  they  alight  right  side  up  like  a  cat, 
and  seem  none  the  worse  for  the  accident.  The 
feet  are  wide-spread  in  such  a  case,  and  the  loose 
skin  over  the  ribs  is  stretched  and  flattened  out 
very  perceptibly.  It  would  seem  only  a  step  from 
that  condition  to  the  parachute  with  which  the 
flying-squirrel  is  provided ;  but  if  the  development 
of  this  formation  in  the  latter  came  about  through 
natural  selection,  it  must  have  begun  very  long 
ago,  for  Cope  has  found  a  fossil  (Allomys},  which 


6  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

he  considers  representative  of  the  flying-squirrel 
type,  as  far  back  as  the  Jurassic.  I  have  read  of 
a  Mexican  squirrel  that  was  thrown  from  a  cliff 
several  hundred  feet  high,  as  an  experiment,  which 
spread  its  body  and  settled  easily  to  a  safe  alight- 
ing upon  the  ground. 

Dr.  C.  C.  Abbott  notes  that  a  certain  sycamore 
near  his  home  on  the  Delaware  was  avoided  by 
the  squirrels,  and  accounts  for  it  by  the  supposi- 
tion that  its  scaly  bark  caused  them  too  many 
falls ;  but  they  are  incessantly  climbing  the  shag- 
bark  hickories,  —  far  worse  than  the  buttonball  in 
the  matter  of  roughness.  The  latter  tree,  however, 
rewards  them  in  nuts,  while  the  sycamore  had 
nothing  to  give  them,  and  the  truth  probably  is 
that  Abbott's  squirrels  were  wise  enough  not  to 
inconvenience  themselves  for.  nothing. 

The  spring  and  early  summer  is  most  uniformly 
the  season  of  reproduction,  and  this  is  the  period 
when  we  see  least  of  our  pets.  The  mothers  are 
awaiting  the  birth  of  their  annual,  or  perhaps  semi- 
annual broods,  and  spend  most  of  their  time  at  rest 
in  their  homes,  while  all  the  males  of  the  grove  go 
wandering  away  to  visit  other  temporary  bachelors. 
To  call  them  all  temporary  husbands,  would  be 
nearer  truth,  however,  for,  so  far  as  we  can  dis- 
cover, the  mating  is  only  for  a  single  season,  and 
as  soon  as  gestation  begins,  the  mothers  become 
vixenish,  and  not  only  turn  their  husbands  out-of- 
doors,  but  expel  them  from  the  premises. 


I  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  J 

Usually  four  kittens  arrive  in  one  litter,  blind 
and  helpless,  and  during  the  first  month  remain 
within  the  nest,  closely  attended  by  the  mother, 
who  permits  no  other  squirrel  —  even  her  pre- 
sumed mate — to  come  near  her.  Each  family, 
in  fact,  pre-empts  a  tree,  and  their  sense  of  prop- 
erty is  so  strong  that  usually  a  trespasser  will 
depart  with  little  resistance,  as  if  conscious  of 
being  where  he  has  no  right.  Old  males  will 
sometimes  kill  their  young,  so  that  the  mother 
does  well  to  keep  all  at  a  distance. 

At  the  end  of  a  month  the  young  are  half  grown, 
and  begin  to  scramble  awkwardly  about  their  door- 
way, yet  the  mother  won't  let  them  leave  the  nest 
until  she  thinks  they  are  fully  ready. 

One  morning  in  the  middle  of  October  I  ob- 
served that  a  family  of  four  young  squirrels  was 
venturing  forth  from  a  box  just  outside  my  study 
window.  They  were  not  more  than  six  weeks  old, 
and  were  very  timid.  It  was  not  often  that  more 
than  two  or  three  would  appear  at  once,  and  one 
of  these  seemed  much  farther  advanced  than  the 
rest,  while  another  was  very  babyish.  Their  prime 
characteristic  was  inquisitiveness.  What  a  fine  and 
curious  new  world  was  this  they  had  been  introduced 
to !  How  much  there  was  to  see !  How  many  de- 
lightful things  to  do !  They  ceaselessly  investigated 
everything  about  them  with  minute  attention,  and 
had  very  pretty  ways,  such  as  a  habit  of  clasping 
each  other  in  their  arms  around  the  neck.  They 


8  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

frequently  scratched  and  stroked  one  another, 
and  once  I  saw  one  diligently  combing  another's 
tail  with  its  fore  feet. 

The  tail,  indeed,  which  is  flat,  and  has  the  wavy 
hair  growing  laterally  from  a  careful  parting  along 
the  muscular  midrib,  is  an  object  of  great  pride  to 
its  owner.  It  is,  no  doubt,  useful  and  comforting 
as  a  wrapper  in  cold  weather,  and  certainly  assists 
the  agile  acrobat  as  a  balancing-pole ;  but  that  it 
is  highly  appreciated  purely  as  an  ornament,  is 
very  evident  from  the  abashed  demeanor  of  the 
little  animal  when  a  portion  of  its  brush  is  lost. 

The  generic  name  Sciurus  (from  which  comes 
"squirrel,"  through  Old  French  esquirel}  is  de- 
rived from  Greek  words  meaning  a  creature  which 
sits  under  the  shadow  of  its  tail,  and  the  name 
shade-tail  is  in  actual  use  in  some  of  the  Southern 
States  to-day.  We  might  appropriately  translate 
the  Greek  in  this  case  as  designating  an  animal 
whose  tail  puts  all  the  rest  of  him  into  the  shade. 

Gradually  they  gain  strength  and  confidence, 
and  then  you  will  see  how  far  the  liveliness  of  the 
young  can  surpass  even  the  tireless  activity  of  old 
squirrels.  Both  old  and  young  are  exceedingly 
fond  of  play,  springing  from  the  ground  as  if  in  a 
high-jumping  match,  and  turning  regular  summer- 
saults in  the  grass ;  but  the  most  amusing  thing  is 
this :  Finding  a  place  where  the  tip  of  a  tough 
branch  hangs  almost  to  the  ground,  they  will  leap 
up  and  catch  it,  sometimes  with  only  one  hand, 


i  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  9 

and  then  swing  back  and  forth  with  the  greatest 
glee,  just  like  boys  who  discover  a  grape-vine  in 
the  woods  or  a  dangling  rope  in  a  gymnasium. 
These  and  many  similar  antics  seem  to  be  done 
"just  for  fun." 

The  kittens  continue  to  be  nursed  by  the  mother 
until  they  have  grown  to  be  almost  as  heavy  as 
herself.  It  seems  impossible  that  her  system  can 
stand  such  a  drain,  —  in  fact  she  does  grow  weak 
and  thin,  —  and  my  neighbor,  who  has  been  an  ex- 
tremely close  observer  of  their  economy  for  several 
years,  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  mother 
weans  the  kittens  gradually  by  giving  them  food 
which  she  has  regurgitated,  or,  at  any  rate,  has 
thoroughly  chewed  up  in  her  own  mouth. 

No  animal  is  more  motherly  than  one  of  these 
parent  squirrels,  and  it  is  delightful  to  watch  her 
behavior  when  the  nearly  grown  brood  has  begun 
to  make  short  excursions,  and  is  undergoing  in- 
struction. All  the  other  families  in  the  grove  take 
an  interest  in  the  proceedings,  and  chatter  about  it 
at  a  great  rate ;  but  if  one  comes  too  near  and  at- 
tempts any  interference  in  the  instruction,  he  is 
likely  to  be  driven  away  most  vigorously  by  the 
jealous  mother.  Every  morning  lessons  in  climb- 
ing and  nut-hunting  are  given,  and  pretty  scenes 
are  enacted.  The  pride  of  the  little  mother  as  she 
leads  her  train  out  on  some  aerial  path  is  very 
noticeable.  They  are  slow  and  timid  about  follow- 
ing. Squirrels  must  learn  to  balance  themselves 


10  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

on  the  pliant  limbs  by  slow  degrees.  It  is  many  a 
long  day  after  they  are  able  to  chase  one  another 
up  and  down  and  under  and  around  a  rough  oak 
trunk,  in  the  liveliest  game  of  tag  ever  witnessed, 
before  they  can  skip  about  the  branches  and  leap 
from  one  to  the  other  with  confidence  in  their 
security.  The  patient  mother  understands  this, 
and  encourages  them  very  gently  to  "try,  try 
again."  I  remember  one  such  lesson.  The  old 
one  marched  ahead  slowly,  uttering  low  notes,  as 
if  to  say :  "  Come  on,  my  dears.  Don't  be  afraid!" 
Every  little  while  she  would  stop,  and  the  two  well- 
grown  children  following  would  creep  up  to  her, 
and  put  their  arms  around  her  neck  in  the  most 
human  fashion,  as  if  protesting  that  it  was  almost 
too  hard  a  task. 

This  loving-kindness  is  extended  to  other  young 
squirrels  whenever  no  question  of  family  rivalry 
interferes,  as  is  shown,  in  a  most  amiable  way,  by 
incidents  I  have  narrated  elsewhere. 

In  spite  of  this  I  do  not  believe  that,  broadly 
speaking,  the  gray  squirrel  is  a  very  intelligent 
animal,  or  has  much  brain-power.  On  the  con- 
trary, to  my  mind  this  squirrel,  except  within  a 
very  limited  field,  where  a  part  of  his  brain  has 
been  developed  by  his  necessities,  is  an  unusually 
stupid  animal.  Dr.  T.  Wesley  Mills  of  Montreal, 
who  has  made  a  study  of  brute  psychology,  has 
essayed  to  show  that  squirrels  are  the  most  intelli- 
gent of  rodents ;  but  even  granting  this  (which  I 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  II 

doubt,  when  I  think  of  the  rat),  little  is  proved, 
and  even  Dr.  Mills  places  the  general  intelligence 
of  the  red,  the  flying,  and  the  ground  squirrels 
superior  to  that  of  our  gray,  which  he  concedes 
to  be  deficient  in  docility. 

Nevertheless,  these  animals  within  a  certain  nar- 
row range  of  acts  and  motions  are  certainly  saga- 
cious ;  and  they  are  somewhat  teachable.  It  took 
our  squirrels  a  very  short  time  to  learn  that  cracked 
nuts  of  several  varieties,  grains  of  corn,  and  other 
edibles  were  to  be  had  on  the  window-sills.  The 
squirrels  know,  furthermore,  that  the  nuts  are 
placed  there  from  the  inside,  and  if,  as  occasionally 
happens,  the  sill  is  empty,  they  will  often  stand  up 
and  tap  upon  the  glass,  as  if  to  attract  notice  to 
their  hunger. 

Moreover,  they  know  very  well  when  the  family 
meal-hours  come  around,  and  will  present  them- 
selves at  the  windows  pretty  regularly  then,  since 
they  have  learned  to  expect  more  than  ordinary 
attention  at  that  time ;  and  they  do  so  even  when, 
occasionally,  the  meal  is  omitted,  so  that  no  noise 
or  odors  of  preparation  could  have  apprised  them 
of  the  time.  The  Doctor  has  had  a  few  advance 
timorously  to  take  food  from  his  fingers,  as  the 
tame  squirrels  on  Capitol  Hill  in  Richmond,  and 
in  some  other  city  parks,  will  do  from  almost 
any  one. 

It  is  plain  that  they  recognize  all  of  us  as  ac- 
quaintances from  their  indifference  to  our  presence, 


12  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

while  they  will  raise  a  great  clamor  whenever  a 
stranger  walks  about  under  the  trees.  More  than 
this,  they  seem  to  know  the  Doctor's  horse  and 
carriage,  and  pay  no  attention  to  its  goings  and 
comings,  but  become  excited  whenever  another 
vehicle  enters  the  premises.  They  will  stay  quietly 
eating  on  the  window-sill  while  one  of  us  sits  just 
inside  the  glass,  but  when  they  see  a  visitor  in  the 
room  will  almost  invariably  seize  a  nut  and  scamper 
away  as  fast  as  they  can  go.  Furthermore  their 
actions  convince  us  that  when,  as  often  happens 
in  midsummer,  Dr.  Phillips  meets  one  of  our  squir- 
rels in  some  far-away  street,  the  little  animal 
recognizes  him  and  shows  its  confidence  in  his 
accustomed  kindness ;  but  I  have  never  been 
recognized  in  that  way,  to  my  knowledge. 

As  pets  these  squirrels  are  not  greatly  in  de- 
mand, —  not  so  much  so  as  the  flying-squirrels, 
which  crawl  inside  your  coat  and  appeal  to  your 
affection  at  once.  The  grays  are  so  mischievous, 
trying  their  strong  teeth  on  everything  and  dam- 
aging furniture  and  hangings  so  rapidly,  that  we 
never  dared  admit  them  to  the  house  on  terms  of 
intimacy,  and  as  for  confining  them  in  a  cage,  it 
was  never  thought  of. 

In  spite  of  some  stories  I  have  heard  and  read, 
I  am  under  the  impression  that  an  attempt  to 
make  a  real  pet  of  one  would  prove  tiresome,  if  it 
didn't  fail  altogether.  The  animal  is  pretty  to 
Jook  at,  and  pleasant  to  handle,  but  seems  to  have 


i  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  13 

little  affection,  or,  at  any  rate,  makes  little  demon- 
stration of  it.  It  is  selfish.  It  wants  you  as  a 
friend  only  for  what  it  can  get  out  of  you,  and 
these  are  not  terms  upon  which  love  grows.  Its 
big  eyes  are  like  jewels,  but  they  never  melt  with 
the  fond  delight  of  the  dog  in  your  companionship 
and  approval.  The  squirrel  may  climb  to  your 
shoulder,  and  explore  your  pockets  for  sweets; 
but  never  will  he  leap  into  your  lap  and  curl  up 
there  for  the  enjoyment  of  being  with  you,  and 
purr  contentedly  over  it  as  does  your  cat.  He  has 
no  monkey-like  antics  with  which  to  amuse  you  — 
no  melodious  tones  to  beguile  your  ear ;  and  one 
who  knows  him  as  an  acrobat  of  the  tree-tops  can 
only  look  with  pity  upon  his  performance  within 
the  limits  of  a  whirling  treadmill,  such  as  is  usu- 
ally attached  to  squirrel  cages. 

Though  the  squirrels  in  this  rus  in  urbe  of  our 
grove  have  few  enemies,  they  have  never  lost  their 
wariness.  Sometimes  a  tremendous  clamor  will 
break  out  in  the  tree-tops  —  a  mixture  of  sharp 
ch-r-r-r-rs  and  whines,  easily  intelligible  to  us  as 
notes  of  alarm  and  indignation.  These  usually 
mean  that  a  strange  dog  or  cat  is  somewhere  near. 
No  hawks  or  owls  (save  the  little  screech-owl)  ever 
come  to  disturb  them,  and,  of  course,  none  of  the 
wild-cats,  weasels,  or  large  serpents  which  kill 
them  in  the  wild  forest  is  here  to  molest  or  make 
them  afraid,  yet  the  population  of  the  grove  never 
seems  to  increase,  though  the  eight  or  ten  pairs 


14  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

more  than  double  their  numbers  every  six 
months. 

The  explanation  is  that  the  young  leave  us  on 
coming  to  maturity.  As  a  rule,  their  family  had 
moved  from  the  house  where  they  were  born  to 
new  quarters  as  soon  as  the  young  could  take  care 
of  themselves,  and  here  a  new  litter  would  soon  be 
forthcoming. 

These  family  flittings  are  often  amusing  specta- 
cles. Sometimes  the  mother  transports  her  kit- 
tens when  blind  and  hairless,  carrying  them  in  her 
teeth ;  but  generally  she  waits  until  they  are  able 
to  travel.  I  recall  one  instance  where  early  in  the 
morning  a  mother  had  got  her  kittens  down  from 
the  old  nest  to  the  end  of  a  bridge  that  ran  across 
to  the  chinquapin,  in  which  her  new  home  was  to 
be.  But  to  go  out  on  that  bridge  was  too  much 
for  the  youngsters.  She  would  run  ahead,  and 
one  or  two  of  them  would  creep  after  her  a  few 
yards,  then  suddenly  become  panic-stricken  and 
scramble  back.  Again  and  again  did  the  little 
mother,  with  endless  patience  and  pains,  counsel 
and  entice  them,  until  at  last  one  was  induced  to 
keep  a  stout  heart  until  he  was  safely  over.  Then 
ensued  another  interval  of  chattering  and  repeated 
trials  and  failures,  and  so  the  second  and  third  were 
finally  got  across.  It  was  now  noon,  and  the  poor 
squirrel  looked  quite  fagged  out,  her  ears  drooped, 
her  fur  was  ruffled,  her  movements  had  lost  their 
verve,  her  tail  hung  low,  and  her  cries  became 


I  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  15 

sharp  and  short.  Her  patience  was  exhausted. 
Instead  of  tenderly  coaxing  the  last  one  of  the 
four,  she  scolded  at  him,  driving  rather  than  lead- 
ing the  terrorized  youngster  along  the  shaky  cable, 
and  when  it  had  reached  the  further  tree,  she  seized 
it  in  her  mouth,  and  fairly  shoved  it  through  the 
door  of  the  new  box. 

It  is  probable  that  in  their  wild  state,  before 
their  forest  range  was  restricted  and  men  began  to 
slaughter  them,  all  the  arboreal  squirrels  were  able 
by  longevity  and  rapid  increase  to  more  than  keep 
pace  with  the  deaths  in  their  ranks.  Their  natural 
term  of  life  probably  approaches  twenty  years. 
We  have  known  continuously  for  twelve  years  one 
female  who  was  apparently  an  old  mother  when 
she  came,  and  is  yet  hale  and  hearty.  During 
this  time  she  has  regularly  produced  at  least  two 
broods  a  year.  At  such  a  rate  squirrels  would 
multiply  until  they  overbalanced  the  ratio  of  num- 
bers assigned  them  by  nature.  Accounts  by  early 
writers  show  that  they  must  formerly  have  been 
amazingly  numerous.  Godman  says  that  the  gray- 
coat  was  a  fearful  scourge  to  colonial  farmers,  and 
that  Pennsylvania  paid  ^8000  in  bounties  for  their 
scalps  during  1749  alone.  This  meant  the  destruc- 
tion of  640,000  within  a  comparatively  small  district. 
In  the  early  days  of  Western  settlement  regular 
hunts  were  organized  by  the  inhabitants,  who 
would  range  the  woods  in  two  companies  from 
morning  till  night,  vying  as  to  which  band  should 


1 6  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

bring  home  the  greater  number  of  trophies;  the 
quantities  thus  killed  are  almost  incredible  now. 

Out  of  these  excessive  multitudes  grew  those 
sudden  and  seemingly  aimless  migrations  of  innu- 
merable hosts  of  squirrels  which  justly  excited 
wonder  half  a  century  ago.  Thousands  upon 
thousands,  of  this  species  usually,  would  suddenly 
appear  in  a  locality,  moving  steadily  in  one  direc- 
tion. These  migrations  occurred  only  in  warm 
weather,  and  at  intervals  of  about  five  years,  and 
all  that  I  have  been  able  to  find  notes  upon  were 
headed  eastward.  Nothing  stopped  the  column, 
which  would  press  forward  through  forests,  prai- 
ries, and  farm  fields,  over  mountains  and  across 
broad  rivers,  such  even  as  the  Niagara,  Hudson, 
and  Mississippi.  This  little  creature  hates  the 
water  and  is  a  bad  swimmer,  paddling  clumsily 
along  with  his  whole  body  and  tail  submerged.  A 
large  part,  therefore,  would  be  drowned,  and  those 
which  managed  to  reach  the  opposite  shore  were 
so  weary  that  many  could  be  caught  by  the  hand. 
Of  course  every  floating  object  would  be  seized 
upon  by  the  desperate  swimmers,  and  thus  arose 
the  pretty  fable  that  the  squirrels  ferried  them- 
selves over  by  launching  and  embarking  upon 
chips,  raising  their  tails  as  sails  for  their  tiny 
rafts. 

The  motive  which  impelled  the  little  migrants  to 
gather  in  great  companies  from  a  wide  area,  and 
then  in  a  vast  coherent  army  to  begin  a  movement. 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  I/ 

and  continue  it  steadily  in  one  direction  for  hun- 
dreds of  miles,  is  hard  to  discover.  It  did  not 
seem  to  be  lack  of  food,  for  they  were  always  fat. 
The  migration  was  leisurely  performed,  too  — 
never  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  prevent  feasting 
upon  any  fields  of  corn  or  sometimes  of  unripe 
grain  that  came  in  the  way.  Such  a  visitation, 
therefore,  was  like  a  flight  of  devouring  locusts, 
one  chronicler  alleging  that  the  sound  they  made 
in  the  maize  in  stripping  off  the  husks  to  get  at 
the  succulent  kernels  was  equal  to  that  of  a  field 
full  of  men  at  harvesting.  There  is  no  difficulty, 
moreover,  in  judging  of  the  effect  such  migrations 
would  have  in  restoring  equilibrium  in  sciurine  pop- 
ulation, since,  of  the  surplus  which  started,  few  sur- 
vived long,  and  the  remnant  at  last  faded  away 
among  the  Alleghanies  or  in  some  other  distant 
locality  without  seeming  to  .increase  the  number  of 
squirrels  there. 

The  curiosity  and  gayety  of  the  gray  squirrel 
are  perhaps  his  strongest  personal  characteristics. 
Nothing  unusual  escapes  his  attention,  and  he  is 
never  satisfied  until  he  knows  all  about  it.  He  is 
the  Paul  Pry,  the  news-gatherer,  of  the  woods. 

When  a  new  building  is  in  course  of  erection  in 
or  near  the  grove,  the  workmen  no  sooner  leave  it 
than  half  a  dozen  squirrels  go  over  and  under  and 
through  it,  examining  every  part.  If  I  trim  away 
branches  and  lay  them  in  a  heap,  or  repair  a 
fence,  or  do  anything  else,  Mr.  Gray  inspects  it 


1 8  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

thoroughly  the  moment  my  back  is  turned ;  and 
when  once  the  house  was  reoccupied  after  a  long 
vacancy,  we  caught  the  squirrels  peeping  in  at  the 
windows  and  hopping  gingerly  to  the  sill  of  each 
open  door,  to  make  sure  the  matter  was  all  right. 

It  is  most  amusing  to  watch  them  on  these  tours 
of  inspection.  Two  or  three  times  a  day  each  one 
makes  the  rounds  of  the  premises,  racing  along 
the  fences,  and  into  one  tree  after  another,  as  if 
to  make  certain  that  nothing  had  gone  wrong. 
He  will  halt  on  the  summit  of  each  post,  rear  up, 
and  look  all  about  him ;  or,  if  his  keen  ears  hear 
an  unwonted  sound,  will  drop  down  upon  all-fours, 
ready  to  run,  his  tail  held  over  his  back  like  a 
silver-edged  plume,  twitching  nervously  and  jerk- 
ing with  each  sharp  utterance,  as  though  it  were 
connected  with  his  vocal  organs  by  a  string.  "  All 
his  movements,"  said  Thoreau,  "imply  a  spectator." 

The  excessive  inquisitiveness  I  have  described 
often  gets  them  into  trouble,  and  is  taken  advan- 
tage of  by  their  enemies.  A  wise  serpent  will  coil 
himself  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  where  squirrels  are 
playing,  and  will  slowly  wave  his  tail  or  display 
his  red  tongue,  sure  that  the  squirrels  will  see  him. 
Doubtless  they  know  him  for  what  he  is  —  a  deadly 
enemy ;  but  they  cannot  resist  a  nearer  look  at 
the  curious  object  and  that  extraordinary  motion. 
Whining,  chr-r-r-ring,  barking,  they  creep  down 
the  tree-trunk.  The  snake  lies  ready,  his  unwink- 
ing eyes  fixed  upon  the  excited  little  quadruped. 


I  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  1 9 

Step  by  step,  impelled  by  a  fatal  desire  to  learn 
more  about  that  fascinating  thing  in  the  grass, 
Bunny  steals  forward  —  and  is  lost ! 

The  male  squirrels  come  back  from  their  sum- 
mer vagabondage  looking  very  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  the  result  of  many  a  battle,  no  doubt, 
for  they  are  incorrigible  fighters.  In  the  season 
of  courtship  the  males  are  especially  pugnacious, 
and  will  bite  one  another  severely,  or  hurl  one 
another  from  lofty  limbs.1  The  red  squirrels,  or 
chickarees,  though  hardly  half  as  big,  will  whip 
the  grays  in  a  running  fight  every  time ;  but  when 
it  comes  to  a  clinch,  the  superior  size  and  weight 
of  the  gray  give  him  the  victory.  There  is  an 
eternal  feud  between  them  because  the  gray  squir- 
rels are  continually  raiding  the  hoards  of  nuts  and 
acorns  which  the  provident  chickarees  stow  away 
in  odd  corners  against  the  coming  of  winter.  The 
holes  in  our  long  post-and-rail  fence  is  a  favorite 
place  of  deposition,  and  in  autumn  this  fence  is 
pretty  regularly  patrolled  by  a  chickaree.  If  a 
reconnoitring  gray  even  approaches  this  fence, 
the  red  will  dash  at  him  like  wildfire. 

One  day  a  pan  of  shelled  corn  stood  outside  the 

1  There  is  no  truth  in  the  long-lived  supposition  that  the  victor 
in  one  of  these  knightly  combats  will  mutilate  his  conquered  foe ; 
but  squirrels  are  much  troubled  by  parasites  in  the  skin,  and  in 
certain  external  organs,  and  these  sometimes  cause  sores  which 
resemble  wounds.  They  fight  a  good  deal,  especially  the  red 
squirrels,  which  are  often  obliged  to  defend  their  scattered  winter 
stores  against  robbers  of  their  own  race,  as  well  as  against  outsiders. 


2O  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP.  I 

door  of  the  Doctor's  barn,  and  a  chipmunk  (the 
striped  ground-squirrel)  approached  it  cautiously 
from  one  side  while  a  rat  came  from  the  barn  on 
the  other.  They  met  at  the  corn,  whereupon,  with- 
out an  instant's  hesitation,  the  chipmunk  sprang 
into  the  air  like  a  cat,  and  alighted  squarely  on 
the  back  of  the  rat,  which,  astounded  and  cowed 
by  this  unlooked-for  attack,  turned  tail,  shook  off 
his  fierce  little  foe,  and  raced  for  shelter,  leaving 
chippie  to  fill  his  cheek-pouches  at  leisure  and  go 
home  in  triumph. 

The  only  bird-enemy  is  the  blue-jay,  who  seems 
to  love  to  tease  the  squirrels  in  winter,  just  for  mis- 
chief;  and  two  jays,  working  together,  can  make  it 
very  unpleasant  for  Bunny.  One  will  dash  at  him 
with  a  joyous  shout,  whereupon  the  scared  and 
nimble  animal  will  slip  around  to  the  further  side 
of  the  tree-trunk,  "talking  back"  the  while  in  the 
angriest  language  he  knows ;  but  there  the  other 
jay  is  ready  for  him,  and  he  must  immediately 
dodge  back  again  to  where  the  first  is  waiting  to 
dart  at  him  a  second  time,  striking  with  wings  and 
beak  until  both  birds  are  tired  of  the  sport,  or 
the  squirrel  bolts  to  some  place  of  refuge. 

Robins  and  other  thrushes  are  quick  to  drive 
away  any  gray  squirrel  that  approaches  the  tree 
in  which  they  are  nesting,  —  an  enmity  which 
seems  to  show  that  this  species  is  guilty  of  despoil- 
ing birds'  nests ;  but  there  is  no  good  evidence  of 
this  crime.  The  red  squirrel,  however,  is  well 


SKULL  AND  DENTITION  OF  A  GRAY  SQUIRREL. 

Side  view,  upper  and  lower  aspects,  and  lower  jaw.  —  NaturaV  :,ize. 

After  Baird. 

21 


CHAP.  I  OUR   GRAY  SQUIRRELS  23 

known  as  an  incorrigible  nest-robber  and  bird- 
catcher,  killing  fledglings  as  well  as  sucking  eggs : 
sometimes,  no  doubt,  his  misdeeds  have  been  laid 
at  the  door  of  the  innocent  gray ;  and  wise  robins 
take  no  chances.  The  flying-squirrel  is  likewise 
overfond  of  birds'  eggs. 

In  another  point  my  observations  were  at  vari- 
ance with  the  books,  which  credit  this  squirrel 
with  somewhat  nocturnal  habits.  Ours  were  often 
abroad  late  into  the  dusk,  and  were  out  with  the 
dawn :  but  certainly  they  were  never  outside  their 
houses  during  the  night,  even  in  bright  moonlight. 
Merely  wet  weather  does  not  daunt  them,  but  a 
heavy  downpour  of  rain  naturally  drives  them  to 
cover.  They  never  take  a  water-bath,  so  far  as 
I  know ;  but  they  are  fond  of  rubbing  and  rolling 
in  loose  sand,  by  way,  I  suppose,  of  ridding  their 
fur  of  vermin. 

In  winter  they  are  more  active,  if  possible,  than 
in  summer,  racing  about  the  trees  at  a  furious  rate, 
as  if  invigorated  to  fresh  activity  by  the  keen  air. 
Yet  the  book-writers  insist  that  their  habit  is  other- 
wise, and  have  described  extensively  their  alleged 
hibernation.  Certainly  our  Connecticut  squirrels 
neither  hibernate  nor  become  torpid.  During  the 
twenty-five  years  they  have  been  under  close  ob- 
servation here  in  New  Haven  there  has  never  been 
a  day  —  excepting  very  sleety  ones,  perhaps  — 
when  they  did  not  appear. 

The  same  denial  must  be  made  in  respect  to  the 


24  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP 

hoards  of  food  reported  laid  up  for  winter  use. 
Our  grays  store  no  "  hoards  "  in  the  ordinary  sense 
of  the  word,  though  both  our  red  and  our  ground 
squirrels  do  so. 

What  the  gray  squirrels  do  is  this :  as  soon  as 
nuts  and  acorns  begin  to  ripen  in  the  autumn,  they 
gather  them  with  great  industry,  and  bury  them 
one  by  one,  separately.  They  do  this  diligently  and 
furtively,  attracting  no  more  attention  than  they 
can  help.  Hopping  about  in  the  grass  until  they 
have  chosen  a  place,  a  hole,  perhaps  two  inches 
deep,  is  hastily  scraped  out,  the  nut  is  pushed  to 
the  bottom  and  covered  up.  The  animal  then 
stamps  down  the  earth  and  hurries  away,  hoping 
it  has  not  been  seen.  They  never  bury  the  food 
given  them  or  found  in  the  summer,  but  in  the  fall 
will  save  and  bury  along  with  their  wild  provender 
the  nuts  and  occasionally  grains  of  corn  taken  from 
the  window-sills. 

Whether  any  of  these  are  dug  up  before  mid- 
winter I  do  not  know ;  I  think  not.  The  squirrels 
wander  off  into  the  woods  when  the  mast  is  ripe, 
and  get  fat  upon  the  oily  food.  But  when  this 
harvest  is  over,  and  their  stores  must  be  drawn 
upon,  their  ability  in  discovering  them  is  wonder- 
ful. They  seem  to  know  precisely  the  spot  in  the 
grass  where  each  nut  is  buried,  and  will  go  directly 
to  it;  and  I  have  seen  them  hundreds  of  times, 
when  the  snow  was  more  than  a  foot  deep,  wade 
floundering  through  it  straight  to  a  certain  point, 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  2$ 

dive  down,  perhaps  clear  out  of  sight,  and  in  a 
moment  emerge  with  the  nut  in  their  jaws. 

Two  hypotheses  have  been  advanced  in  explana- 
tion of  this  unerring  recovery  of  their  treasures. 
One  is  that  the  animal  remembers.  But  the  diffi- 
culty of  assuming  this,  under  all  the  circumstances, 
is  so  great,  that  it  seems  easier  to  believe  the  alter- 
native explanation,  namely,  that  the  treasure  is 
found  by  aid  of  the  sense  of  smell.  It  certainly 
seems  to  us  that  a  hickory  nut,  after  having  been 
buried  three  or  four  months,  and  covered  with  a 
foot  or  two  of  snow,  would  be  as  unsmellable  as 
anything  could  be  ;  but  it  won't  do  to  limit  the 
sensitiveness  of  a  squirrel's  nose  until  we  know 
more  about  it  than  we  do  at  present. 

At  any  rate,  nearly,  if  not  quite  all,  the  nuts 
buried  are  exhumed  before  spring,  for  few  hickory 
or  oak  saplings  spring  up  in  our  grove,  as  would 
happen  if  any  considerable  number  of  seeds  were 
left  in  the  ground.  Thoreau  has  a  great  deal  to 
say  on  this  topic  in  his  suggestive  essay  on  the 
Natural  History  of  Massachusetts  (in  "Walden"), 
and  credits  the  squirrels  with  doing  an  immense 
amount  of  tree-planting. 

In  confinement  these  squirrels  will  often  attempt 
to  bury  nuts  in  the  floor  of  their  cages,  going 
through  the  digging,  covering,  and  patting  motions 
as  if  the  article  were  really  buried.  A  writer  in 
The  American  Naturalist  for  1883  described  this 
behavior  on  the  part  of  a  flying-squirrel  which  had 


26  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

been  bred  in  the  cage  from  babyhood,  and  thus 
must  have  acted  purely  under  the  impulse  of  in- 
herited tendency  or  habit ;  moreover,  this  captive 
chose  out  of  a  large  assortment  only  the  acorns 
and  hazel-nuts  that  grew  wild  in  that  locality, 
never  attempting  to  bury  peanuts,  pecans,  and 
other  foreign  fruits,  although  it  ate  them  readily 
enough.  Darwin,  in  his  book  on  Earthworms, 
alludes  to  this  practice,  and  uses  it  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  his  doctrine  that  "  the  instincts  of  even  the 
higher  animals  are  often  followed  in  a  senseless  or 
purposeless  manner." 

Our  squirrels  do  not  limit  themselves  to  nuts, 
however.  They  are  fond  of  buds,  especially  in 
the  spring,  devouring  the  maple  and  elm  buds 
in  particular ;  and  in  summer  they  feed  largely  on 
fungi  and  berries.  Raspberries  and  strawberries 
please  them  especially  well,  and  they  are  accused 
of  choosing  the  biggest  and  ripest  ones  —  a  very 
sensible  proceeding.  They  will  eat  dry  kernels  of 
Indian  corn,  if  they  are  hungry,  but  delight  in  it 
when  it  is  soft  and  milky,  and  in  the  early  days 
of  farming  in  the  Western  States,  where  the  animals 
were  very  numerous,  they  committed  depredations 
so  serious  that  boys  were  set  to  patrol  the  field 
and  drive  them  away.  I  am  convinced  that  they 
also  eat  insects. 

The  ripening  of  the  mast  in  the  fall  is  the  squir- 
rel's gala-day,  and  the  beginning  of  his  work-day, 
too.  He  does  not  wait  for  the  nuts  to  get  ripe, 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  27 

but  attacks  their  green  husks,  and  his  paws  get 
richly  stained  with  their  brown  juices.  His  power- 
ful chisel-teeth  quickly  strip  the  shagbark  nuts, 
but  the  clinging  shucks  of  the  pignut  hickory  are 
cut  through.  So  rapidly  does  he  work  that  a  hard 
dry  walnut  will  be  opened  and  cleaned  out  in  less 
than  a  minute.  Those  squirrels  that  inhabit  co- 
niferous forests  subsist  upon  the  seeds  of  the 
spruce  and  pine.  These  are  procured  by  snipping 
off  the  scales,  beginning  at  the  butt  end  of  the 
cone  and  following  the  spiral  arrangement.  They 
are  also  said  by  a  writer  in  the  Bulletin  of  the 
Nuttall  Ornithological  Club  (VII,  54)  to  suck  sap 
from  certain  trees. 

Certain  differences  of  size  and  coat  noticeable 
between  types  of  the  North  American  gray  squir- 
rel from  widely  separated  parts  of  the  country, 
accompanied  by  local  peculiarities  of  habit,  led  at 
first  to  the  naming  of  several  supposed  species. 

This  doubt  in  the  past  as  to  specific  unity  well 
illustrates  the  principle  that  variations  in  size  and 
color  among  all  North  American  mammals  and 
birds  are  correlated  with  geographical  distribution, 
and  seem  to  conform  to  varying  conditions  of 
climate.  In  general,  it  may  be  said  that  our  ani- 
mals show  an  enlargement  of  peripheral  parts, 
that  is,  have  longer  limbs,  tails,  etc.,  in  southern 
latitudes  than  toward  the  northern  limits  of  their 
range ;  that  the  colors  also  increase  in  intensity 
southward;  and  third,  that  colors  are  more  in- 


28  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

tense  in  regions  of  copious  rainfall  than  in  arid 
areas. 

The  squirrels  exemplify  these  rules.  In  this 
species  (carolinensis\  for  instance,  a  steady  grada- 
tion may  be  detected  from  the  light  pure  gray  of 
the  upper  parts,  characteristic  of  New  England 
specimens,  to  the  yellowish  dorsal  fur  of  the  Flor- 
ida type.  In  the  fox-squirrels  (Sciurus  niger)  of 
Wisconsin  and  Iowa  the  lower  parts  are  only  pale 
fulvous,  in  some  specimens  nearly  white;  about 
St.  Louis  they  are  strong,  bright  fulvous,  and  in 
lower  Louisiana  reddish  fulvous  or  deep  orange, 
while  the  back  is  far  darker  than  northward.  The 
same  species  fades  westward  from  the  bright  speci- 
mens of  the  damp  Mississippi  Valley  forests  into  a 
far  paler  variety  along  the  dry  edges  of  the  Great 
Plains.  The  red  squirrel  (S.  hudsonius)  and  the 
chipmunk  (Tamtas  striatus}  are  also  excellent  illus- 
trations of  the  action  of  climatic  influences  under 
this  law  —  particularly  the  latter,  whose  color  and 
stripes  exhibited  so  many  varieties  between  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  coasts  that  early  naturalists, 
having  insufficient  specimens,  described  confidently 
as  several  species  what  is  now  conceded  to  be  only 
one. 

The  relative  amount  of  moisture  and  shade  seem 
to  be  the  determining  causes  of  this  diversity, 
drouth  and  the  blanching  power  of  the  sun  in 
the  high  dry  plains  fading  the  pigments  in  the 
hair,  or  perhaps  checking  their  deposition.  The 


MALABAR  SQUIRREL. 

This  little  animal,  the  largest  and  one  of  the  handsomest  of 
its  race,  is  bright  chestnut  brown  above,  with  the  sides,  breast 
and  under  parts  yellow. 


I  OUR    GRAY  SQUIRRELS  2Q 

effect  of  natural  selection  in  adapting  the  animal 
(in  color)  to  its  surroundings,  by  tending  to  make 
it  less  conspicuous  in  an  exposed  than  in  a  con- 
cealed habitat,  is  also  to  be  considered  here. 

Quite  distinct  from  this,  however,  seems  to  be 
the  tendency  to  melanism,  which  is  so  strongly 
marked  in  several  of  our  sciurids.  Among  flying- 
squirrels,  red  squirrels,  and  chipmunks,  a  black 
one  is  as  rare  as  an  albino  —  probably  more  rare ; 
but  in  the  cases  of  the  gray  and  the  fox  squirrels 
black  examples  are  extremely  common  in  some 
parts  of  the  country,  and  are  popularly  considered 
a  wholly  separate  species.  But  no  such  rule  of 
climate  as  mentioned  above  seems  to  control  this 
phenomenon,  since  black  or  dusky  forms  of  both 
species  are  as  likely  to  be  southern  as  northern  in 
their  habitat.  Where  melanism  occurs,  it  is  likely 
to  prevail  over  a  considerable  district,  sometimes 
nearly  if  not  quite  to  the  exclusion  of  squirrels  of 
the  normal  tint.  This  shows  that,  though  sporadic, 
it  "runs  in  families,"  descending  from  parents  to 
young ;  yet  not  inevitably  so,  for  many  litters  pro- 
duced by  black  parents  will  contain  a  member  or 
two  gray,  or  red,  or  grizzled,  and  black  and  normal 
individuals  mate  freely.  The  "  color-line  "  is  not 
drawn  in  sciurine  society.  Black  ones,  however, 
are  never,  or  very  rarely,  seen  east  of  the  Hudson 
River ;  and,  furthermore,  the  northeastern  black  is 
often  rusty  or  brownish  in  tone,  rather  than  pure, 
especially  in  its  summer  pelage. 


3O  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  i 

NOTE.  —  An  abundance  of  instructive  and  entertaining 
reading  on  squirrels  is  open  to  one  who  cares  to  study  them 
further.  A  general  guide  will  be  found  in  Stone  and  Cram's 
"  American  Animals,"  with  a  list  of  books  and  scientific  papers 
relating  to  their  classification,  structure,  etc. ;  another  list  of 
books  is  contained  in  the  Appendix  to  my  "  Life  of  Mammals," 
which  also  furnishes,  in  its  chapter  on  the  Rodents,  a  sketch 
of  the  squirrel  tribe  generally,  showing  the  relation  between 
our  own  and  foreign  species.  Very  full  histories  of  eastern 
and  southern  squirrels  are  to  be  read  in  Audubon  and  Bach- 
man's  great  "  Quadrupeds  of  North  America,"  and  in  Mer- 
riam's  "  Mammals  of  the  Adirondacks."  The  "  Journals"  of 
Thoreau,  and  the  various  books  by  Seton,  Sharp,  Abbott, 
Blatchley,  Lottridge,  Cram  ("Little  Beasts  of  Field  and 
Wood"),  and  similar  writers,  include  much  pleasant  informa- 
tion upon  these  animals.  A  collection  of  essays  by  John 
Burroughs  is  entitled  "  Squirrels  " ;  and  "  A  Quintette  of  Gray- 
coats,"  by  Effie  Bignell,  is  a  story  of  squirrel  life  in  a  village 
garden.  An  explanation  of  the  origin  and  value  of  the  food- 
storing  habit  may  be  read  in  my  book  "  The  Wit  of  the  Wild.' 


A  RED  SQUIRREL. 


II 

THE   FATHER   OF   GAME 

I  HAVE  frequently  noticed  in  menageries  a  start 
of  surprise  in  the  eyes  of  persons  before  a  puma's 
cage,  when  they  learned  that  this  splendid  cat  was 
American. 

It  somehow  informs  our  prosaic  northern  forests 
with  a  foreign,  romantic,  and  adventurous  spirit, 
to  find  such  a  denizen  in  them,  for  pictures  of  the 
lion,  tiger,  and  leopard  so  fill  our  imaginations  that 
all  large  and  fierce  beasts  seem  necessarily  tropical. 
That,  however,  is  by  no  means  the  fact.  Even  in 
America  the  jaguar  wanders  north  to  the  Indian 
Territory  —  or  once  did  —  and  south  into  Patagonia, 
while  the  puma  is  to  be  found  from  Canada  to 
Cape  Horn.  Indeed,  the  wonder  is  that  any  natural 
barriers,  less  than  wide  spaces  of  water,  restrict 
the  range  of  these  powerful  animals.  What  pre- 
vented the  jaguar,  able  to  live  along  the  western 
bank  of  the  lower  Mississippi,  from  spreading  east- 
ward, at  least  throughout  the  South  Atlantic  States  ? 
Yet  we  have  no  record  that  he  ever  did  so,  although 
"moving  accidents  of  flood"  must  again  and  again 
have  placed  individuals  and  pairs  on  the  eastern 
D  33 


34  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

shore  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  whose  current  the 
jaguar  is  quite  competent  to  swim,  if  he  likes.  As 
for  the  puma,  he  possesses  the  whole  continent  as 
far  north  at  least  as  the  watershed  of  Hudson  Bay, 
in  the  east,  while  on  the  western  coast  he  follows 
the  mountains  to  the  middle  of  British  Columbia. 
Southward  he  is  plentiful  throughout  the  tropics, 
and  less  so  even  to  the  Straits  of  Magellan.  No 
other  kind  of  cat,  not  only,  but  no  other  sort  of 
land  animal  whatever  (not  domesticated)  equals 
this  species  in  north  and  south  range  (100  de- 
grees); and  that  implies  that  no  other  is  called 
upon  to  adapt  itself  to  such  a  diversity  of  seasons, 
climatic  conditions,  food,  and  competition.  It  has 
to  meet  not  only  the  cardinal  contrasts  of  climate 
between  tropical  and  subarctic  zones,  but,  as  it  is 
widely  distributed  on  both  continents,  it  encounters 
all  the  differences  that  can  be  found  between  life 
in  Canadian  spruce-woods  or  on  the  high  cordil- 
leras  from  Alaska  to  Chile,  and  the  moist,  feverish 
lowlands  from  the  Mexican  coasts  to  southern 
Brazil.  One  would  expect  to  see  in  such  a  species 
—  the  more  so  as  the  individual  animals  are  not 
far  wanderers,  but  remarkably  stationary  in  habi- 
tat—  wide  variations  from  the  type;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  few  animals  exhibit  less  diversity  in  size, 
structure,  or  external  appearance. 

A  comparison  of  the  puma  with  the  jaguar  is 
highly  interesting  in  respect  to  color  as  well  as  in 
the  matter  of  distribution.  While  the  yellow  hide 


n  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  35 

of  the  jaguar  is  adorned  everywhere  with  black 
spots,  the  adult  puma  has  no  spots  whatever,  ex- 
cept that  the  lips  are  black,  with  a  patch  of  white 
on  each  side  of  the  muzzle,  the  outer  rim  of  the 
ear  is  black,  and  sometimes  the  tip  of  the  tail.  Its 
upper  parts  are  a  uniform  pale  fox-red,  more  or 
less  dull  in  certain  lights,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
each  hair  is  fawn  gray,  red  only  at  the  tip ;  this 
color  is  more  intense  along  the  spine  and  decidedly 
lighter  around  the  eyes,  while  the  throat,  belly, 
and  inside  of  the  legs  are  reddish  white.  The 
color  is  so  much  like  that  of  the  Virginia  deer 
that  their  backs  could  hardly  be  distinguished  at 
a  little  distance  —  in  fact,  precisely  this  mistake 
has  been  made  by  astonished  hunters ;  and  on  the 
Amazons  the  puma  is  called  "false  deer."  How 
helpful  such  a  resemblance  would  prove  to  this 
wily  beast,  when  stealing  through  the  grass  upon 
a  herd  of  deer  or  any  other  prey  that  would  have 
no  reason  to  be  alarmed  by  the  known  presence  of 
what  it  took  to  be  a  deer,  is  at  once  evident. 

The  common  term  "  American  lion  "  goes  back 
to  the  earliest  days  of  European  discovery  on  this 
continent,  when  the  colonists  supposed  the  hides 
the  Indians  brought  in  were  those  of  the  true 
lion,  explaining  the  absence  of  maned  examples 
by  the  theory  that  they  had  seen  only  female 
skins.  "California  lion,"  and  "mountain  lion," 
"red  tiger,"  "panther"  (or  "painter"),  are  less 
excusable  misnomers.  "  Puma "  is  said  to  be 


36  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Peruvian,  and  "  cougar "  is  a  shortening,  through 
the  French,1  of  a  native  Brazilian  term ;  while 
"  catamount,"  now  rarely  heard,  is  borrowed  from 
Europe,  and  is  confusing,  because  often  applied  to 
the  lynx. 

As  everybody  recognizes  the  advantage  to  the 
animal  of  the  inconspicuousness  of  its  plain  reddish 
coat,  and  recalls  at  once  the  similar  case  of  the 
lion,  whose  tawny  hide  harmonizes  well  with  the 
sere  grass  of  the  South  African  karoo,  or  with 
the  arid  plains  of  the  Sahara,  Arabia,  or  Turkestan, 
it  is  customary  to  say  hurriedly  that  this  is  the 
outcome  of  a  beneficent  process  of  natural  selec- 
tion. The  same  persons  will  tell  you  that  the 
elaborate  spotting  of  the  jaguar  is  another  striking 
example  of  the  beneficence  of  the  same  law,  acting 
within  a  different  sphere,  pointing  out  that  the 
spots  of  its  yellow  hide  harmonize  so  exactly  with 
the  dappling  of  the  sunlight  as  it  falls  through  the 
trembling  leaves  as  to  make  the  beast  invisible  to 
an  unsuspecting  eye.  They  may  be  right  in  these 
deductions,  but  there  are  certain  difficulties  in 
making  the  same  rule  apply  to  both,  or,  still  more, 
to  the  case  of  the  puma. 

The   jaguar   confines  his  career  to  forests  and 

1  Bates,  in  "The  Naturalist  on  the  Amazons,"  explains  in  a  foot- 
note on  sassu-ardna, "  false  deer,"  that  "  the  old  zoologist  Marcgrave 
called  the  puma  the  cuguacurana,  possibly  (the  c's  being  soft  or  f~) 
a  misspelling  of  sassu-ardna ;  hence  the  name  couguar  employed 
by  French  zoologists."  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  ("Travels  on  the 
Amazon  ")  spells  it  sasurana  and  attributes  it  to  the  Lingoa  Geral. 


ii  THE  FATHER   OF  GAME  37 

swamps,  among  whose  flickering  lights  his  form 
is  certainly  easily  lost  to  view,  as  also  are  those 
of  the  margay  and  ocelot,  though  the  marblings 
of  the  latter  are  very  different  from  the  jaguar's 
sharp  black  rosettes ;  but  unfortunately  for  the 
correlative  half  of  the  argument,  the  puma  is  also 
an  inhabitant  of  the  very  same  deep  woods  that 
are  the  home  of  the  jaguar,  ocelot,  and  margay  in 
the  south,  and  of  the  much-spotted  lynx  in  the 
north ;  and  so  are  the  jaguarondi  and  eyra,  neither 
of  which  have  any  variegations  of  hide  to  imitate 
the  dapplings  of  light  and  shadow. 

Another  thing :  We  are  told  that  the  bold  stripes 
of  the  Bengal  tiger  match  so  well  with  the  vertical 
lights  and  shadows  among  the  tall  grasses  and 
bamboos  of  an  Indian  jungle  as  to  conceal  that 
beast  almost  entirely  when  he  lies  within  it ;  but 
a  similar  covert  is  a  favorite  lurking-place,  along 
the  River  Plate,  for  our  jaguar,  yet  he  does  not 
need,  or  at  any  rate  does  not  possess,  the  vertical 
stripes  regarded  as  indispensable  to  his  East  Indian 
cousin  under  the  same  circumstances. 

When  one  surveys  the  whole  family,  he  dis- 
covers that  there  are  as  many  spotted  cats  on  the 
plains  and  deserts  as  in  the  forests,  and  vice  versa  ; 
and  then,  remembering  that  the  habits  of  all  are 
substantially  the  same,  he  begins  to  doubt  the 
value  of  any  conclusion  in  this  direction  drawn 
from  one  species.  Moreover,  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  the  cats  are  for  the  most  part  nocturnal 


38  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

animals,  so  that  their  color  is  of  no  great  conse- 
quence, since  the  wisdom  of  the  ages  declares  that 
"all  cats  are  gray  in  the  dark."  The  truth  seems 
to  be  that  there  is  a  very  forcible  inherited  ten- 
dency to  spottedness  in  this  family  and  its  imme- 
diate allies,  as  the  civets.  In  most  members  this 
persists  in  a  remarkable  degree,  with  interesting 
variations  of  pattern  ;  while  a  minority  have  riearly 
outgrown  it,  and  a  few  have  lost  the  markings 
altogether,  though  even  these,  it  should  be  noted, 
are  born  with  spotted  hides.  There  seems  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  natural  selection  has  had  anything 
traceable  to  do  with  the  origin  of  these  markings, 
and  but  little  to  do  with  their  modification  or  dis- 
appearance. 

As  to  the  size  of  the  puma,  one  reads  of  speci- 
mens ten  or  eleven  feet  long ;  but  no  satisfactory 
evidence  exists  of  a  length  greater  than  eight  feet, 
measured  from  tip  of  nose  to  tip  of  tail,  and  the 
average  will  fall  below  seven  feet.  The  jaguar 
has  a  longer  and  heavier  body,  but  its  tail  is  far 
shorter.  Proportions  vary  somewhat,  those  from 
the  tropics  being  a  trifle  larger  than  specimens 
taken  in  cool  latitudes,  following  the  law  that  an 
animal  will  reach  its  greatest  size  where  the  con- 
ditions are  most  favorable  to  its  kind  as  a  whole. 
The  comparative  fulness  of  the  skull  forward 
gives  to  the  head  a  rounded  solidity  not  usual  in 
cats,  and  bears  out  the  creature's  reputation  for 
craft.  This  gives  to  the  face,  also,  an  expression 


II  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  39 

of  intelligence  quite  different  from  the  flat-headed, 
brutish,  ferocity  of  many  feline  countenances. 
Yet,  when  the  ears  are  laid  flat  back,  the  eyes 
half  closed,  the  lips  withdrawn  in  a  snarl,  and  the 
animal  crouched,  with  muscles  tense  and  the  corn- 
colored  claws  half-protruded,  in  readiness  for  a 
spring,  its  aspect  is  sufficiently  terrifying. 

This  animal,  nevertheless,  is  probably  the  most 
cowardly  and  least  dangerous  of  all  the  larger  car- 
nivores. The  South  Americans  dread  it  much  less 
than  the  jaguar,  and  the  Indians  of  our  continent 
would  far  rather  meet  it  than  a  bear.  The  in- 
stances are  few  where  it  has  seriously  resisted  men 
when  it  could  get  away,  and  then  it  was  almost  in- 
variably in  defence  of  its  young ;  and  still  fewer 
are  the  instances  where  it  has  made  an  unpro- 
voked attack.  One  has  often,  it  is  true,  ap- 
proached a  lone  wood-chopper,  or  dogged  the  trail 
of  a  hunter  or  traveller  through  the  wilderness,  or 
prowled  about  some  camp-fire  or  remote  frontier 
cabin  ;  but  this  behavior  was  evidently  dictated  in 
some  cases  by  extreme  hunger,  but  more  often  by 
mere  curiosity  and  desire  for  company,  and  has 
been  rarely  followed  by  a  harmful  attack,  though 
credible  cases  of  its  springing  upon  children  have 
been  recorded. 

To  this  timidity  is  largely  due  the  easy  and  early 
extinction  of  the  beast  in  the  eastern  half  of  the 
Union,  where,  had  it  possessed  the  courage  and 
power  of  resistance  shown  by  the  Old  World  leop- 


4O  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

ard  and  tiger,  it  might  have  remained  to  this  day 
a  source  of  terror  in  many  thinly  settled  neighbor- 
hoods, such  as  the  Catskill  Mountains,  which  are 
supposed  to  have  been  named  in  reference  to  it. 
The  rocky  wilds  of  northeastern  Quebec  and  New 
Brunswick  may  shelter  a  few,  and  a  small  number 
of  pairs  survived  in  the  Adirondacks  until  towards 
1890,  but  the  State  bounty  paid  after  1871  has- 
tened their  extermination.  Twenty  years  ago  one 
heard  of  an  occasional  panther  in  the  Alleghanies, 
and  some  probably  remain  in  the  swamps  along 
the  western  side  of  the  lower  Mississippi,  and  in 
the  Ozarks ;  but  the  whole  northern-central  region 
of  the  Union  has  long  been  free  from  them.  Prac- 
tically, therefore,  we  may  say  that  the  puma  has 
disappeared  east  of  the  Black  Hills  and  western 
Texas;  yet  a  century  has  not  elapsed  since  one 
was  taken  in  Westchester  County,  N.Y.,  adjoining 
New  York  City. 

This  animal  seems  never  to  have  been  very  nu- 
merous—  much  less  so  than  bears,  wolves,  or 
lynxes.  Nature,  indeed,  provides  against  undue 
multiplication  of  these  powerful  and  predatory 
beasts.  No  machine  with  automatic  governor, 
however  delicate,  equals  the  self-acting  influences 
that  preserve,  in  a  state  of  nature,  unbroken  by 
civilized  interferences,  the  balance  of  an  equal 
chance  for  all  —  a  true  animal  socialism.  Thus  a 
single  pair  of  these  destructive  and  long-lived  cats 
seems  originally  to  have  occupied  alone  a  certain 


II  THE  FATHER   OF  GAME  41 

territory,  the  extent  of  which  was  determined  by 
their  ability  to  hunt  over  it,  and  to  defend  it  from 
rivals  of  their  own  species,  for  they  had  nothing 
else  to  fear. 

It  is  an  interesting  speculation,  indeed,  whether 
the  apparent  cowardice  of  the  northern  puma  is 
not  in  reality  ignorance  of  danger,  since  he  may 
not  suppose  that  man  is  more  to  be  feared  than 
other  large  animals,  whose  attack  he  has  no  reason 
to  dread,  even  though,  as  in  the  case  of  the  moose 
and  bison,  he  might  hesitate  to  become  himself  the 
attacking  party.  The  conspicuously  greater  cour- 
age of  the  African  and  Asiatic  cats  might  easily 
have  arisen  from  the  need  of  frequently  fighting 
for  their  quarry  with  competitors  as  capable  as 
themselves,  and  from  their  constant  encounters 
with  large  and  well-armed  game,  such  as  the  rhi- 
noceros, buffalo,  and  long-horned  antelopes.  Fierce 
battles  are  reported,  however,  as  occurring  between 
the  California  puma  and  grizzly  bears. 

It  is  not  the  habit  of  the  puma  to  wander  far 
from  the  den,  where  a  single  family  seems  to  make 
its  home.  Whether  a  mate  is  taken  for  life  is  not 
known,  but  at  least  it  seems  probable  that  a  change 
of  partners  is  not  made  with  each  recurring  season. 
The  male  and  female  hunt  separately,  however,  and 
sportsmen  assert  that  the  latter  is  the  better  hunter 
of  the  two.  This,  if  true,  is  perhaps  a  result  of 
greater  need  and  more  constant  practice,  since  she 
must  get  food  not  only  for  herself,  but  for  her 


42  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

young,  because  the  father  does  not  summon  his 
family  to  share  with  him  a  feast,  as  the  African 
lion  is  said  to  do.  The  mother  leads  her  half- 
grown  kittens  about  with  her,  and  doubtless  gives 
them  useful  instruction;  but,  according  to  Merriam, 
she  leaves  them  somewhat  behind  when  actually  in 
pursuit  of  prey,  fetching  them  to  share  the  results. 

The  amatory  season  occurs  during  the  early  win- 
ter (varying  according  to  latitude  and  climate), 
when  the  female's  softened  mood  and  desire  for 
companionship  apparently  lead  her  to  strange 
doings,  for  it  is  hard  otherwise  to  account  for  the 
actions  related  of  certain  cougars  that  have  in- 
sisted upon  an  unpleasantly  close  acquaintance 
with,  rather  than  have  made  an  attack  upon, 
human  beings.  Thus  several  cases  have  been 
related  as  occurring  in  broad  daylight  in  the  State 
of  Washington,  where  unarmed  men  or  women 
have  been  approached  by  a  puma,  which  came 
close,  and  even  leaped  upon  them,  knocking  them 
down  and  scaring  them  nearly  to  death,  then  re- 
treated a  little  way,  danced  and  rolled  about,  but 
at  first,  at  least,  offered  no  harm,  beyond  playfully 
seizing  and  tearing  their  clothes.  Later,  however, 
a  realization  of  human  helplessness,  together  with 
impatience  at  the  lack  of  sympathy  with  feline 
humor,  sometimes  provoked  a  more  savage  attack. 

Nowhere  is  the  puma  more  numerous  and  famil- 
iar, in  spite  of  the  war  of  extermination  waged 
against  it  by  the  ranchmen,  than  on  the  pampas 


II  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  43 

of  southern  Argentina;  and  it  is  interesting  to 
read  the  following  from  "  Gold  Diggings  at  Cape 
Horn,"  by  an  excellent  observer,  John  R.  Spears, 
the  most  recent  writer  upon  Patagonia : 

"  The  lonely  wayfarer  is  not  often  found  there 
afoot,  but  men  have  been  on  the  desert  unmounted, 
and  the  panthers  have  come  to  play  around  them 
too.  But  it  is  not  as  a  predatory  cat  that  they 
come.  It  is  as  a  playful  kitten.  Individual  pan- 
thers play  by  themselves  —  old  ones  as  well  as 
young  —  by  the  hour.  They  will  chase  and  paw 
and  roll  an  upturned  bush  or  a  round  rock  or 
any  moving  thing,  and  lacking  that  will  pretend 
to  sneak  up  on  an  unwary  game,  crouching  the 
while  behind  a  bush  or  rock  for  concealment,  to 
spring  out  at  last  and  land  on  a  hump  of  sand  or 
a  shadow.  Then  they  turn  round  and  do  the 
same  thing  over  again.  When  it  is  in  this  frame 
of  mind,  if  a  lone  human  being  comes  along,  the 
panther  is  as  glad  to  see  him  as  a  petted  cat  to 
see  its  mistress.  It  purrs  and  rolls  over  before 
him,  and  gallops  from  side  to  side,  and  makes  no 
end  of  kitten-like  motions,  and  all  because  of  the 
exuberance  of  its  youthful  spirits.  .  .  .  The  plains- 
men of  all  Argentina  call  the  panther  by  a  name 
which  means  '  friend  of  man.'  " 

The  young  are  born  as  early  as  February  in 
Central  America,  where  a  second  litter  may  occa- 
sionally be  produced,  as  it  is  stated  that  kittens 
have  been  taken  in  August;  but  in  the  northern 


44  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

United  States  the  birth  is  considerably  later.  The 
period  of  gestation,  according  to  observations  in 
zoological  gardens,  varies  from  ninety-one  to  ninety- 
seven  days.  The  kittens  are  brought  forth  among 
the  mountains  in  some  den  beneath  overhanging 
rocks;  but  in  flat  countries  the  mother  secretes 
herself  inside  a  dense  thicket  or  cane-brake,  where 
she  prepares  a  bed  of  sticks  and  leaves.  Four  or 
five  kittens  may  come  at  a  birth,  but  usually  only 
two  or  three;  and  Merriam  thinks  that  in  the  East, 
at  least,  many  more  females  are  born  than  males. 
At  first,  as  has  been  hinted,  these  kittens  are 
covered  with  black  spots  and  stripes,  and  the  tail 
is  ringed.  Bonavia  makes  merry  over  the  puzzled 
mind  of  the  young  father,  when  he  beholds  these 
varicolored  offspring,  and  pictures  the  conjugal 
anxiety  of  the  mother  to  convince  her  suspicious 
spouse  that  it  is  all  right.  The  markings  mostly 
disappear  by  the  end  of  six  months,  but  obscure 
reminders  of  them  remain  several  months  longer, 
and  now  and  then  are  never  quite  outgrown. 
William  A.  Conklin,  late  keeper  of  the  Central  Park 
Menagerie,  in  New  York,  noted,  from  much  ex- 
perience with  them,  that  the  kittens  opened  their 
eyes  after  eight  or  nine  days,  cut  their  front  teeth 
in  eighteen  or  twenty  days,  and  were  weaned  when 
three  months  old.  The  cubs  do  not  become  well- 
grown  before  the  end  of  the  second  year,  and  dur- 
ing most  of  this  time  associate  with  the  mother, 
who  is  valiant  in  their  defence;  and  if  we  may 


n  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  45 

believe  an  account  in  that  quaint  old  sportsmen's 
magazine,  "  The  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,"  pub- 
lished in  Philadelphia  in  1830-31,  of  a  deadly 
attack  by  a  cougar  upon  a  bear,  the  explanation 
is  probably  found  in  the  fear  of  a  mother  that  her 
kittens  were  in  danger. 

Dr.  Merriam  concludes  that  in  the  Adirondacks 
the  puma  breeds  only  once  in  two  years.  If  this 
be  true,  it  is  a  striking  example  of  one  of  nature's 
limitations  of  these  destructive  beasts,  which  would 
seem,  at  first  thought,  to  have  a  clear  field  for 
indefinite  multiplication.  But,  though  their  food 
is  ordinarily  abundant,  no  active  enemies  are  to 
be  feared,  and  the  climate  holds  no  terrors,  there 
are  certain  insidious  foes  that  they  are  powerless 
to  resist,  in  the  form  of  parasites.  To  these,  and 
especially  to  the  internal  sorts,  the  pumas,  in  com- 
mon with  other  cats,  seem  to  be  peculiarly  lia- 
ble. Various  nematodes  (thread-worms),  trematodes 
(flukes),  and  many  kinds  of  tape-worms,  are  known 
to  attack  this  family.  Some  of  them  grow  in  the 
stomach  and  bowels,  until  the  animal  perishes  of 
exhaustion  and  starvation,  while  others  penetrate 
the  lungs  or  liver,  or  encyst  themselves  among  the 
muscles,  setting  up  there  so  fierce  an  inflammation 
as  to  cause  death  unless  (as  doubtless  often  hap- 
pens) the  sufferer  is  sooner  murdered  by  some 
savage  rival.  These  parasites  are  taken  into  the 
system  from  the  living  animals  upon  which  the 
cat  feeds,  especially  from  hares  and  other  rodents. 


46  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

This  introduces  the  subject  of  the  puma's  food, 
which  might  be  succinctly  disposed  of  by  the 
statement  that  he  ate  anything  he  could  get  his 
teeth  upon  in  the  way  of  flesh.  As  Spears  pictu- 
resquely writes  of  it  (in  Patagonia) :  "  It  claws 
down  the  whirring  partridge,  as  she  springs  from 
her  nest,  which  it  afterward  robs  of  its  eggs ;  it 
kills  the  ostrich  as  he  sits  on  his  nest,  and  then, 
after  hiding  his  body,  it  returns  to  the  nest  and 
eats  the  eggs  with  gusto ;  it  snatches  the  duck  or 
the  goose  from  its  feeding-place  at  the  edge  of  a 
lagoon ;  it  crushes  the  shell  of  the  waddling  arma- 
dillo ;  it  digs  the  mouse  from  its  nest  in  the  grass ; 
it  stalks  the  desert  prairie-dog,  and,  dodging  with 
easy  motion  the  fangs  of  the  serpent,  it  turns  to 
claw  and  strip  out  its  life  before  it  can  coil  to  strike 
again.  The  mainstay  of  his  natural  bill  of  fare  in 
the  North  was  the  Virginia  deer,  especially  fawns 
and  yearlings,  and  in  South  America  the  guanaco." 

Elks  and  moose  could  fight  him  off,  as  cattle 
are  able  to  do,  except  when  seized  by  surprise  and 
from  behind.  In  his  admirable  history  of  the 
quadrupeds  of  the  Adirondacks,  Dr.  C.  Hart  Mer- 
riam  gives  the  following  lucid  description  of  the 
cougar's  method  of  hunting  : 

"  Panthers  hunt  both  day  and  night,  but  un- 
doubtedly kill  the  larger  part  of  their  game  after 
nightfall.  When  one  scents  a  deer  he  leaps  to 
the  leeward  and  creeps  stealthily  toward  it,  as  a 
cat  does  after  a  mouse.  With  noiseless  tread  and 


II  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  47 

crouching  form  does  he  pass  over  fallen  trees  and 
ragged  ledges,  or  through  dense  swamps  and  tan- 
gled thickets,  till,  if  unobserved,  within  thirty  or 
forty  feet  of  his  intended  victim.  If  he  can  now 
attain  a  slight  elevation  and  a  firm  footing,  he 
springs  directly  upon  his  prey,  but  if  upon  level 
ground  makes  one  or  two  preliminary  leaps  before 
striking  it.  The  noise  thus  made  frightens  the 
deer,  who  makes  a  sudden  and  desperate  effort  to 
escape.  But,  if  lying  down,  several  seconds  are 
necessary  to  get  under  full  headway,  and  the  pan- 
ther follows  so  rapidly,  in  a  series  of  successive 
leaps,  that  it  often  succeeds  in  alighting  on  the 
back  of  its  unhappy  quarry.  Its  long  claws  are 
planted  deep  into  the  quivering  flesh,  and  its  sharp 
teeth  make  quick  work  with  the  ill-fated  sufferer. 
If,  however,  the  deer  sees  him  in  season,  and  can 
get  a  good  footing  for  a  sudden  move,  it  commonly 
escapes,  and  the  panther  rarely  follows  it  more 
than  a  few  rods,  for  as  soon  as  he  finds  that  the 
deer  is  gaining  on  him  he  at  once  gives  up  the 
chase.  In  fact,  a  panther  rarely  secures  more 
than  one  out  of  every  four  or  five  deer  upon  which 
he  attempts  to  spring.  Then,  too,  it  not  infre- 
quently happens  that  he  strikes  a  deer  when  it  is 
under  such  headway  that  it  escapes ;  and  when 
panthers  were  more  plenty  here  than  they  now 
are,  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  shoot  a  deer 
bearing  deep  scars  upon  its  flanks  —  scars  that 
were  clearly  made  by  the  claws,  of  this  powerful 


48  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

beast.  The  female  is  by  far  the  better  hunter  and 
does  not  lose  so  many  deer  as  the  male." 

The  puma  by  no  means  restricts  himself  to 
venison,  however,  and  latterly  has  been  able  to 
get  very  little  of  it.  He  eats  rabbits,  ground- 
squirrels,  and  all  the  small  animals  that  come  in 
his  way,  including  many  sorts  of  birds,  like  par- 
tridges, that  nest  upon  the  ground.  "  Cougars  are 
either  particularly  fond  of  porcupines,"  says  Mer- 
riam,  "  or  else  are  frequently  forced  by  hunger  to 
make  a  distasteful  meal,  for  certain  it  is  that  large 
numbers  of  these  beasts  are  destroyed  by  them. 
Indeed,  it  often  happens  that  a  panther  is  killed 
whose  mouth  and  lips,  and  sometimes  other  parts 
also,  fairly  bristle  with  the  quills  of  this  formidable 
rodent."  Even  mice  are  not  despised. 

Like  other  cats  it  is  fond  of  fish,  and  can  some- 
times catch  them  alive.  Though  not  addicted  to 
bathing,  it  is  by  no  means  afraid  of  the  water. 
Dr.  Suckley  tells  us  that  one  exhibited  for  several 
years  in  San  Francisco,  a  generation  ago,  was  capt- 
ured by  being  noosed  from  a  steamboat,  while 
swimming  the  Columbia  River  there,  a  mile  and  a 
half  wide.  Probably  reptiles  are  not  refused  at 
a  pinch,  as  the  jaguar  is  known  to  eat  iguanas,  and 
to  be  fond  of  the  crocodile,  which  it  seizes  and  con- 
quers in  its  native  element.  Insects  and  snails, 
even,  do  not  come  amiss.  Carrion,  however,  seems 
never  to  be  touched,  though  hunters  agree  that  an 
animal  lately  killed  by  other  hands,  will  be  accepted, 


II  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  49 

for  instances  are  numerous  where  the  panther  has 
carried  off  not  only  deer  that  had  been  left  out 
over  night,  but  has  taken  game  from  before  the 
very  eyes  of  the  sportsman.  "  One  day,"  says 
Perry,  "  when  shooting  rabbits,  I  tied  together  a 
number  that  I  had  killed,  and  hung  them  on  the 
branch  of  an  alder  which  overhung  the  path. 
Returning  along  the  same  path  shortly  after,  I 
met  a  cougar  trotting  leisurely  along  with  my 
rabbits  in  his  mouth.  Having  a  shell  loaded  with 
buckshot,  he  paid  for  his  dishonesty  with  his  life." 

The  puma  was  quick  to  avail  itself  of  the  intro- 
duction of  domestic  cattle,  and  began  to  prey  upon 
the  settlers'  pastures  from  the  start.  It  has  a  par- 
ticular penchant  for  horseflesh,  and  ravages  the 
herds  of  Indian  ponies  on  the  plains  and  pampas, 
attacking  first  the  colts,  but  often  killing  full-grown 
horses  and  mares.  This  may  explain  several  re- 
corded incidents  of  cougars  leaping  upon  the  horse 
of  a  traveller,  but  fleeing  when  they  discovered  the 
man  in  the  saddle,  even  when,  as  usually  happened, 
he  had  been  dismounted  by  the  plunging  of  the 
animal.  The  cougar  probably  failed  to  recognize 
the  human  being  in  that  unaccustomed  attitude, 
and  was  as  much  surprised  as  the  man. 

Calves,  sheep,  and  hogs  are  also  preyed  upon ; 
and  in  the  grazing  districts  of  South  America  and 
our  far  West  the  cougars  are  yet  so  numerous, 
wherever  a  rough  country  offers  them  secure  re- 
treats, as  to  make  a  serious  drawback  in  some 


ijO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

localities  to  profitable  ranching.  These  forays 
happen  as  often  by  day  as  by  night ;  and  the  de- 
plorable feature  of  them  is,  that  the  marauder, 
with  true  brutish  ferocity,  is  not  content  with  sat- 
isfying his  present  hunger,  but  keeps  on  slashing 
right  and  left  until  he  has  struck  down  every  ani- 
mal within  reach.  Thus  in  many  cases  nineteen 
or  twenty  sheep  have  been  slaughtered  in  a  single 
foray,  a  little  blood  only  being  sucked  from 
each  one.  The  same  story  comes  from  the  cattle, 
sheep,  horse,  and  llama  owners  of  South  America, 
where,  in  the  Andes,  this  animal  abounds  nearly 
up  to  the  snow-line.  Patagonian  shepherds  told 
Mr.  Spears  of  losing  from  forty  to  one  hundred 
and  twenty  sheep  in  a  single  night. 

The  manner  of  attack  has  been  described,  —  a 
stealthy  approach,  followed  by  a  lightning-like 
spring.  The  attempt,  in  the  case  of  a  large  quad- 
ruped, is  to  knock  it  down  with  one  blow  of  the 
muscular  paw,  then  instantly  to  seize  and  pull 
back  the  head,  breaking  the  neck ;  Darwin  notes 
in  his  "  Voyage,"  that  he  examined  the  skeletons 
of  many  llamas,  said  to  have  been  killed  by  pumas, 
whose  necks  were  dislocated  in  this  manner.  If 
that  fails,  a  single  bite  of  the  long,  lance-like,  sec- 
torial  teeth  on  each  side  of  the  upper  jaw,  com- 
pletes the  work. 

The  quarry  is  not  eaten  on  the  spot,  but  is  taken 
away  to  be  devoured  at  leisure.  Small  animals 
are  lifted  free  from  the  ground,  but  those  as  heavy 


n  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  51 

as  a  calf  or  deer  are  dragged  away  into  the  bushes, 
the  accounts  in  some  books  of  its  "  flinging  its  prey 
over  its  back,"  and  galloping  away  with  it,  being 
manifest  exaggerations.  Often  he  does  not  devour 
the  flesh  at  once,  or  only  begins  upon  it,  then  drags 
it  away,  covers  it  with  leaves  and  brush,  and  waits 
to  finish  his  meal  when  he  is  more  hungry.  When 
he  has  gorged  himself,  he  retires  a  little  distance 
and  lies  down  to  sleep.  Hunters,  knowing  this 
habit,  search  the  neighborhood  of  a  "  kill "  as  soon 
as  they  learn  of  one,  sure  that  the  puma  is  near 
by,  and  well  aware  that  he  is  little  to  be  feared  in 
that  state.  Few  men  would  be  foolhardy  enough 
to  poke  round  in  the  brush  in  the  hope  of  arousing 
a  leopard  from  his  after-dinner  nap  ! 

There  is  a  widespread  notion  that  the  puma 
always  lies  in  wait  for  prey  upon  the  limbs  of 
trees,  and  thence  leaps  upon  its  back.  It  appears 
that  it  may  do  —  and  has  done  —  so  in  special 
places,  as  at  the  salt-licks  of  Kentucky,  and  at  cer- 
tain springs  in  Texas,  where  deer  regularly  came 
to  drink,  but  certainly  it  is  not  a  general,  nor  would 
it  be  a  profitable,  habit.  Indeed,  this  animal  shows 
a  marked  reluctance  to  climbing,  rarely  taking  to 
trees  except  when  pursued  by  a  pack  of  peccaries, 
coyotes,  or  dogs,  and  then  only  for  safety,  and  not 
as  a  point  for  advantageous  attack.  It  frequently 
leaps  from  rocky  elevations,  however,  and  to  an 
astonishing  distance.  Merriam  says  that  on  level 
ground  a  spring  of  twenty  feet  is  by  no  means 


52  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

uncommon,  and  gives  an  account  of  one  measur- 
ing sixty  feet,  where  the  cat  leaped  from  a  ledge 
twenty  feet  high  and  pushed  the  deer  he  struck  a 
rod  farther  by  the  force  of  the  impact.  I  have 
read  somewhere  of  a  pair  known  to  have  their  lair 
on  top  of  a  rock  that  could  be  reached  only  by  a 
vertical  jump  of  twenty  feet. 

Their  ordinary  gait  is  a  slouching  walk  or  trot, 
and  they  are  not  swift  of  foot,  except  for  a  short 
succession  of  leaps.  Otherwise,  their  movements 
have  all  that  union  of  grace  and  quickness  charac- 
teristic of  cats. 

The  "blood-curdling  screams"  of  the  puma  have 
furnished  forth  many  a  fine  tale  for  the  camp-fire, 
but  evidence  of  this  screaming,  which  will  bear 
sober  cross-examination,  is  scant.  I  myself  have 
heard  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  at  night,  shrill 
screams,  so  piercing  and  cat-like,  yet  of  so  much 
force  and  loudness,  that  it  did  not  seem  likely  any- 
thing less  than  a  cougar  could  utter  them.  I  be- 
lieved then,  and  am  still  of  the  opinion,  that  these 
were  the  cries  of  a  puma :  but  I  did  not  see  the 
animal.  Indeed,  evidence  so  positive  as  this  will 
be  difficult  to  obtain,  since  loud  yells  are  heard 
mainly  at  night,  and  would  be  unlikely  to  be 
emitted  in  the  presence  of  a  listener  at  any  time. 
Says  Mr.  W.  A.  Perry,  who  has  had  a  long  per- 
sonal acquaintance  with  these  beasts,  and  in  "  The 
Big  Game  of  North  America  "  has  written  an  ex- 
cellent account  of  their  habits  in  the  Northwest : 


ii  THE  FATHER   OF  GAME  53 

"  Sometimes,  when  the  hunter  is  stalking  the 
deer  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  forest,  he  is  star- 
tled by  a  fiendish  cry,  —  a  cry  so  unearthly  and  so 
weird  that  even  the  man  of  stoutest  heart  will 
start  in  affright ;  a  cry  that  can  only  be  likened  to 
a  scream  of  demoniac  laughter.  This  is  the  cry 
of  the  male  panther.  If  it  is  answered  by  the 
female,  the  response  will  be  similar  to  the  wail  of 
a  child  in  terrible  pain." 

To  this  may  be  added  the  testimony  of  Mr.  W.  A. 
Baillie-Grohman,  one  of  the  sanest  and  most  trust- 
worthy writers  upon  life  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
quoted  from  his  excellent  book  "  Camps  in  the 
Rockies  " : 

"  Other  strange  sounds  fall  on  the  ear  as  I  pro- 
ceed with  quickened  step  toward  camp,  sounds 
that  you  never  hear  in  daytime,  when,  usually, 
oppressive  stillness  reigns  in  the  great  upland  for- 
ests. The  hoot  of  the  owl  is  one  of  the  most 
quaintly  weird;  but  it  is  not  like  the  unearthly 
wail  of  the  puma,  or  mountain-lion,  demoniacal 
and  ghoulish  as  no  other  sound  in  the  wide  realm 
of  nature.  As  it  re-echoes  through  the  forests 
you  involuntarily  shudder,  for  it  is  more  like  a 
woman's  long-drawn  and  piteous  cry  of  terrible 
anguish  than  any  other  sound  you  could  liken  it 
to.  Once  heard,  it  will  never  be  forgotten  ;  and  it 
can  no  more  be  compared  to  the  jabber  of  the 
coyote  or  the  howl  of  the  hyena,  than  a  baby's  cry 
of  displeasure  to  its  mother's  piercing  shriek  as 


54 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


she  sees  the  little  one  in  a  position  of  danger. 
Out  only  at  night,  they  are  of  all  beasts  the  most 
watchful,  and  most  difficult  to  shoot ;  and,  though 
their  fearful  call,  in  very  close  vicinity,  has  fre- 
quently stampeded  our  horses,  and  startled  some 
of  us  from  sleep,  I  have  only  been  near  enough  to 
shoot,  and  kill,  one  single  specimen  in  all  my  wan- 
derings." 

It  does  not  appear,  even  here,  however,  that  the 
writer  had  any  better  evidence  than  his  "  startled 
affright"  in  support  of  his  assertion  that  the 
"fiendish  cry"  came  from  a  cougar.  In  view  of 
this  uncertainty,  some  men  go  to  the  extreme  of 
denying  that  any  puma  does  or  ever  did  utter  such 
noises  as  have  been  described,  saying  that  the 
story  is  a  composition  of  fox-howl,  screech-owl- 
hoot,  imagination,  and  plain  lying.  This  seems  to 
me  going  too  far.  There  is  no  reason  why  this 
animal  should  not  caterwaul  at  times  as  well  as  its 
humbler  relative  of  the  back  fence ;  and  if  we  may 
be  deceived  for  a  moment,  —  as  we  sometimes  are, 
—  by  Tom's  or  Julia's  doleful  wail,  into  thinking  we 
hear  a  child  in  mortal  pain,  so  we  need  not  scoff 
unduly  at  those  who  hear  in  the  naturally  far 
louder  caterwauling  of  the  bigger  cat-of-the-moun- 
tain,  the  agony  of  a  man  or  woman  under  torture. 
Pumas  do  not  shriek  loudly  in  confinement,  but 
they  mew,  whimper,  and  growl,  like  a  house-cat, 
"  only  more  so." 

As  winter  approaches,  the  mountain  lions  de- 


n  THE  FATHER    OF  GAME  55 

scend  from  their  summer  haunts  in  the  higher 
parts  of  the  mountains  and  increase  the  number 
in  the  valleys,  —  in  other  words,  they  follow  the 
game;  and  it  is  then  that  the  rancher's  herd  suffers 
most,  and  that  in  severe  weather  his  corrals  are 
most  often  invaded.  Now  and  then  a  particular 
panther  is  known  to  be  the  author  of  several  suc- 
cessive outrages,  and  when  he  has  been  killed  it  is 
usually  found  that  he  is  an  old  fellow  whose  age 
and  worn  teeth  have  put  him  behind  in  the  com- 
petition of  the  woods,  and  led  him  to  devote  his 
declining  energies  to  the  easier  and  safer  raiding 
of  cattle  and  sheep. 

At  present  the  business  of  breeding  horses  and 
donkeys  in  the  mountain  valleys  of  northern  Mexico 
is  almost  prevented  by  the  prevalence  of  pumas. 

When  taken  early,  the  kittens  become  interesting 
and  docile  pets,  as  is  frequently  seen  in  South 
America;  but,  as  a  rule,  they  become  too  treacher- 
ous and  uncontrollable,  with  advancing  age,  to  make 
them  safe  companions.  It  is,  of  the  larger  cats,  the 
one  least  frequently  seen  in  the  shows  of  animal- 
trainers,  although  common  in  zoological  gardens 
and  travelling  menageries,  where  it  breeds  freely. 

The  hunting  of  the  puma  is  hardly  classed  as  a 
sport  in  this  country.  The  Gauchos  and  aboriginal 
nomads  of  Patagonia  ride  it  down  on  horseback, 
and  kill  it  with  their  bolas  or  lances  at  short  range. 
Our  Texan  cow-boys  occasionally  meet  one  on  the 
prairie,  and  then  have  the  fun  of  lassoing  and 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


CHAP. 


dragging  it  to  death,  unless  they  prefer  to  end 
its  life  with  their  pistols.     Everywhere  dogs  are 


ZUNI  FETICHES  OF  THE  PUMA. 

regarded  as  indispensable  to  success  in  regularly 
hunting  them, — any  sort  of  a  cur  will  do. 

Having  reason  to  suspect  the  presence  of  a 
cougar,  the  hunter  moves  about  until  his  dog  goes 
away  upon  a  scent,  when  he  follows  as  best  he  can. 
It  will  not  be  long,  usually,  before  the  barking  will 
tell  him  that  his  cur  has  discovered  the  quarry ; 
and  by  the  time  he  can  overtake  it  he  is  pretty 
sure  to  find  that  the  animal  has  taken  to  a  tree,  as 
this  cat  will  almost  invariably  do  as  soon  as  it 
notices  the  approach  of  the  dog,  which  seems  to 
terrify  it  to  a  degree  comical  when  we  consider 
the  difference  in  size.  The  jaguar,  on  the  other 
hand,  while  hating  a  dog  above  all  other  creatures, 


n  THE  FATHER   OF  GAME  $f 

is  unterrified  by  it,  and  will  do  its  best  to  catch  and 
eat  it.  One  shot  usually  ends  the  matter,  but 
should  the  puma  be  wounded,  but  not  crippled,  it 
is  likely  to  charge  with  tremendous  force  and  fury, 
and  become  an  exceedingly  dangerous  antagonist. 

The  hide  is  of  no  great  value,  though  a  favorite 
material  among  the  Indians  of  the  Southwest  for 
bow  and  gun  cases,  perhaps  with  a  half-supersti- 
tious idea  that  the  skin  of  so  mighty  a  hunter  is 
peculiarly  suited  to  such  a  purpose.  The  flesh 
(usually  boiled)  is  eaten  by  all  Indians,  and  is  not 
despised  by  white  men,  since  it  is  white  and  tender, 
with  the  taste  and  appearance,  when  roasted,  of 
young  pig.  The  fat  of  the  panther  is  the  most  satis- 
fying food  of  the  Argentine  desert,  supplying  the 
craving  felt  by  the  nomads  of  the  Pampas  for 
those  nutritive  elements  elsewhere  furnished  by 
vegetable  food,  there  so  scarce. 

Not  many  myths  of  the  red  men  have  clustered 
about  this  animal,  despite  its  great  size  and  strength, 
a  fact  perhaps  due  to  the  absence  in  it  of  attractive 
mental  qualities.  The  cougar  leaves  little  to  the 
imagination.  Clavigero's  "  History  of  Lower  Cali- 
fornia" informs  us  that  150  years  ago  that  prov- 
ince was  so  overrun  with  "lions"  that  the  natives 
were  kept  in  absolute  subjection  to  the  brutes, 
and  were  often  glad  to  make  a  meal  from  the 
remains  of  their  prey.  This  unchecked  increase 
was  owing  to  a  superstition  which  prevented  the 
Indians  from  killing  a  puma  or  even  disturbing  it 


ijg  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  n 

in  any  way,  recalling  the  veneration  felt  and  re- 
straint exercised  toward  the  tiger  by  certain  sects 
in  India.  Dampier  adds,  subsequently,  that  the 
Jesuit  missionaries  there  were  not  able  for  a  long 
time  to  make  any  headway  against  this  notion,  and 
could  keep  no  live-stock  in  consequence.  Clans  in 
various  tribes  of  the  Southwest  have  been  proudly 
named  after  this  successful  hunter  and  model 
guerilla ;  and  it  stands  at  the  head  of  the  curious 
"  prey-god  "  theogony  of  the  Zuftis,  who  call  it  the 
"  Father  of  Game." 

NOTE.  —  In  addition  to  the  books  above  mentioned,  one 
should  read  the  writings  of  President  Theodore  Roosevelt,  — 
especially  his  "Outdoor  Pastimes  of  an  American  Hunter"; 
and  the  publications  of  the  Boone  and  Crockett  Club.  Long 
and  interesting  accounts  of  both  animals  will  be  found  in  the 
great  work  of  Audubon,  and  in  Godman's  "  Natural  History." 
For  the  puma  and  jaguar  in  Central  and  South  America,  read 
Porter's  "Wild  Beasts";  Bates's  "Naturalist  on  the  River 
Amazons  " ;  Belt's  "  Naturalist  in  Nicaragua  " ;  Hudson's  "  The 
Naturalist  in  La  Plata";  and  Azara's  "Natural  History  of  the 
Quadrupeds  of  Paraguay."  The  question  of  protective  color- 
ing, etc.,  is  well  summarized  in  Beddard's  "  Animal  Coloration." 
Stone  and  Cram's  "  American  Animals  "  gives  references  to 
several  authorities  on  classification  and  structure ;  and  in  my 
"  Life  of  Mammals "  I  have  sketched  both  the  puma  and 
jaguar  at  length,  and  have  noted  many  books  relating  to  them, 
to  which  may  be  added  a  late  publication  by  Bailey  (No.  25 
of  North  American  Fauna),  describing  these  animals  as  they 
appear  in  southern  Texas. 


Ill 

THE  SERVICE  OF  TAILS 

A  TAIL,1  properly  speaking,  is  a  prolongation  of 
the  backbone  behind  (or  beyond)  the  pelvic  arch, 
which  supports  the  hinder  limbs. 

Sometimes  this  prolongation  is  the  larger  half 
of  the  entire  length  of  the  spinal  column,  as  in 
some  reptiles  and  ,a  few  mammals,  —  the  acme 
being  reached  by  one  of  the  African  pangolins 
(Manis  tricuspis\  whose  tail  is  nearly  twice  as 
long  as  its  body,  and  contains  forty-nine  caudal 
vertebrae,  the  largest  number  known  among  mam- 
mals ;  sometimes  it  is  extremely  short,  or  altogether 
abortive,  as  among  frogs  and  in  our  own  case,  for 

1  To  the  light-minded  a  better  title  would  be  A  Tale  of  Tai/s,  or 
something  of  that  miserable  sort  —  perhaps  A  Caudal  Lecture  — 
instead  of  the  words  at  the  head  of  the  page.  That  would  be  a 
pun  of  the  most  brutal  kind,  as  obvious  and  headlong  as  one  of  the 
bulls  of  Bashan.  A  pun  should  not  come  gradually  bulging  out 
towards  one's  intelligence  —  looming  up  slowly  before  the  mind 
like  a  light-house  in  a  fog.  It  should  appear  unexpectedly  at  your 
elbow,  startling,  yet  not  affrighting  you,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Cheshire  Cat.  Not  on  the  lookout,  you  do  not  at  once  perceive 
the  allusion,  but  an  instant  later  the  essence  of  wit  encased  in  the 
quibble  declares  itself,  as  certain  candies,  disappointing  and  flavor- 
less at  first,  presently  disclose  a  liquid  centre  of  sweets  to  the 
surprised  palate. 

6l 


62  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

even  humanity  possesses  -the  rudiment  of  a  tail 
concealed  beneath  the  skin.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  more  human-like  kinds  of  monkeys  (the  apes). 

Some  tails,  like  those  of  the  bear,  deer,  and  goat, 
are  so  short,  stubbed,  and  immovable  as  to  defy 
any  attempt  to  perceive  a  present  purpose  in  their 
existence.  Of  what  possible  use  to  a  turtle,  for 
example,  is  its  tail  ?  None,  apparently,  whatever 
might  have  been  the  case  in  the  differently  con- 
stituted ancestors  of  the  turtle.  This  part  has  sim- 
ply remained  after  its  service  in  chelonian  economy 
had  been  long  outgrown,  as  buttons  are  still  sewed 
upon  the  sleeves  of  our  coats,  although  a  century 
has  elapsed  since  men  thus  fastened  back  their 
too  voluminous  cuffs. 

It  is  a  survival  of  the  misfit. 

Indeed,  it  would  not  be  easy,  were  one  to  insist 
upon  visible  utility  in  every  case,  to  prove  the 
serviceability  of  some  of  the  most  pretentious  of 
these  appendages.  Look  at  the  wild  cats.  The 
panther  and  the  ocelot  have  long  and  graceful 
tails ;  the  lynxes  own  the  merest  apology  for  one, 
and  are  irreverently  dubbed  "bobcats"  in  the 
West.  Yet  you  cannot  say  that  the  former  species 
thrives  better  than  the  latter.  Length  or  brevity 
of  tail  seems  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  either 
habits  or  happiness.  Thus  the  wrens  and  our 
various  thrashers  (Harporhynchi)  are  cousins-ger- 
man ;  yet  the  wren's  tail  is  an  absurd  little  tuft  of 
short  leathers  "  weel  cockit "  over  his  rump,  and 


in  '   THE   SERVICE    OF  TAILS  63 

that  of  the  thrasher  is  long  and  drooping.  The 
brilliant  sun-birds  and  gaudy  parrots  content  them- 
selves with  short  rectrices,  while  the  no  less  orna- 
mented humming-birds  and  trogons  of  our  tropical 
woods  trail  behind  them  plumes  of  vivid  color,  often 
three  times  as  long  as  the  body. 

Sometimes  the  tail  carries  out  the  general  con- 
tour of  the  body,  and  its  origin  is  scarcely  dis- 
cernible, externally,  as  among  snakes  and  most 
fishes ;  again,  it  is  an  almost  naked  appendage,  as 
among  the  rats ;  while  a  third  class  can  be  made 
of  tails  plentifully  furnished,  and,  as  a  rule,  highly 
adorned,  with  hair  or  feathers,  such  as  those  of 
the  horse,  the  squirrels,  the  ant-eater,  the  fox,  the 
malodorous  skunk,  and  the  gorgeous  peacock,1 
pheasants  and  birds-of-paradise. 

But  a  more  interesting  line  of  inquiry  is  to  trace 
the  manifold  ways  in  which  wild  animals  turn  their 
tails  to  practical  account.  These  appendages  are 
as  a  fifth  limb  to  a  great  number  of  creatures  who 
would  be  sadly  deficient  without  them.  They  serve 
their  various  owners  as  shelters ;  as  garments ;  as 
receptacles,  carriers,  and  tools ;  as  respirators ;  as 
badges  for  friend  or  foe;  as  weapons,  both  for 
offence  and  defence ;  as  anchors,  supports  and 
aids  to  locomotion  on  land  as  well  as  under  the 
water  and  through  the  air ;  as  musical  instruments 
(for  example,  by  the  rattlesnake),  or  as  a  means 

1  In  this  bird,  however,  the  resplendent  train  really  consists  of 
tail-coverts  and  not  of  the  rectrices,  or  true  tail-feathers. 


64  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

of  expression  in  a  great  variety  of  gestures;  as 
matrimonial  advertisements;  as  egg-holders  and 
incubators ;  and  finally,  as  baby  carriages,  —  for  in 
all  these  ways  do  tails  enter  into  the  ministry  of 
limbs  to  one  or  another  animal. 

And  here  it  is  well  to  broaden  out  the  word 
"  tail "  so  as  to  include  more  posterior  appendages 
than  are  included  in  my  first  strict  definition. 
Nevertheless,  we  must  draw  the  line  inside  of 
popular  usage  even  here.  The  prolongations  of 
the  wings  of  certain  butterflies,  for  instance,  are 
not  "tails,"  though  entomologists  term  them  so  in 
a  special  sense;  nor  would  it  be  allowable  to  in- 
clude the  spinnerets  of  spiders,  nor  the  stings 
of  bees,  nor  the  ovipositors  of  many  insects, 
although  these  sometimes  extend  in  hair-like  tubes 
beyond  the  tip  of  the  abdomen,  nor  the  apparently 
similar  breathing-tubes  of  the  Ranatra  bugs. 

But  it  is  right  to  speak  of  the  "tail"  of  the 
scorpion-fly  (Panorpa),  —  which  is  articulated  ex- 
actly like  that  of  a  scorpion,  —  of  the  skip-jack 
beetle,  and  of  a  few  other  insects ;  while  the  word 
is  fairly  applied  to  certain  worms,  to  all  the 
swimming  crabs,  the  cuttle-fishes,  and  even  tc 
gasteropod  mollusks,  wherever  the  body  is  length- 
ened out  into  a  more  or  less  serviceable  hinder  part. 

Let  us  take  up  some  of  these  utilities  in  their 
order  and  illustrate  them.  What  animals,  to  begin 
with,  employ  their  tails  as  a  shelter?  Well,  the 
great  ant-eater  does  so,  for  one.  The  tail  of  the 


THE  SERVICE    OF  TAILS 


ant-eater  is  an  enormous  brush,  which  he  is  said 
to  bend  over  his  body  like  an  umbrella.  His 
home  is  in  the  Amazonian  forests,  where  tremen- 
dous rains  fall ;  and  as  it  is  his  business  to  be  abroad 
in  the  forest,  pushing  his  way  through  the  drip- 
ping undergrowth  at  all  hours,  such  an  umbrella, 
as  Mr.  Wallace  assures  us,  is  of  great  service 
to  him,  —  except  when  it  gets  him  into  trouble. 

This  usually  hap- 
pens by  reason  of 
an  Indian's  rat- 
tling the  leaves 


THE  GREAT  ANT-EATER. 

in    imitation    of     a 
shower,  and  taking  " 
advantage     of     the 

poor  beast's  haste  to  elevate  his  umbrella,  to  rush 
forward  and  kill  it.  Hence  the  wisest  of  the  ant- 
eaters  have  concluded  that  there  are  times  when  it 
is  well  to  know  enough  not  to  go  in  when  it  rains. 
The  long  and  ample  tail-feathers  of  East  Indian 
pheasants  form  a  pent-house,  with  sloping  roofs 
beneath  which  the  chicks  huddle,  warm  and  dry 


66  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

during  showers,  —  a  habit  especially  illustrated  in 
the  Himalayan  peacock-pheasants  (Polyplectron), 
whose  young  spend  most  of  their  time  beneath 
the  shelter  and  concealment  of  their  mother's  fan- 
like  tail,  coming  out  only  when  called  to  pick  up 
the  food  she  scratches  out  of  the  leaves.  Here 
the  tail  is  a  nursery. 

As  for  the  hermit-crabs,  while  one  could  not  say 
they  make  a  shelter  of  their  tails,  it  is  certain  that 
they  could  not  obtain  and  hold  the  shell-homes 
with  which  they  provide  themselves,  and  that  are 
necessary  to  their  existence,  were  it  not  for  their 
ability  to  hold  on  to  them  by  means  of  their  flexi- 
ble tails,  which  grasp  the  inner  whorls,  and  form 
an  effective  lease  of  the  premises. 

As  for  garments,  —  who  that  ever  has  seen  a 
squirrel  humped  up  on  a  cold  day  with  its  tail 
pressed  close  along  its  back ;  or  a  raccoon,  a  fox, 
or  a  cat,  sitting  with  its  feet  wrapped  in  the  furry 
"boa  "  of  its  tail,  can  doubt  that  this  is  the  putting 
on  of  an  overcoat  ?  Only  warmly  furred  animals, 
by  the  way,  have  bushy  tails  ;  and  all  these  sleep 
curled  up,  with  the  tail  around  the  face  as  birds 
place  their  heads  beneath  their  wings.  As  such 
animals  usually  sleep  alone,  they  need  more  pro- 
tection against  an  undue  loss  of  heat  while  asleep 
than  do  animals  that  take  their  repose  huddled 
together  in  groups  that  warm  one  another ;  hence 
their  blanket-like  tails.  An  attendant  benefit  of 
sinking  the  nose  into  the  brush,  as  Mr.  Law- 


in  THE  SERVICE    OF  TAILS  67 

son  Tait  has  pointed  out,  is  that  it  answers  the 
purpose  of  a  respirator,  warming  the  air,  before 
it  is  breathed,  to  a  temperature  more  suitable  for 
health,  and  one  that  will  detract  less  heat  from 
the  body  than  would  air  entering  the  lungs  wholly 
untempered. 

An  extension  of  this  overcoat  idea  into  that  of 
a  coat  of  mail  is  exhibited  in  certain  of  the  arma- 
dillos, as  the  tatusids,  where  the  scaly  investiture 
of  the  long  tail  is  a  part  of  the  protection  of  the 
soft  under-parts  when  the  animal  rolls  itself  into 
a  ball  and  defies  its  enemy's  teeth.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  larger  pangolins,  whose  tail,  covered 
with  scales  on  the  outside,  and  held  closely 
appressed  to  its  rolled-up  body,  is  a  very  impor- 
tant part  of  its  self-protection.  In  that  excellent 
book,  William  T.  Hornaday's  "  Two  Years  in  the 
Jungle,"  you  may  read  a  most  instructive  account 
of  the  Indian  species  of  pangolin  (Hants  pentadac- 
tyla\  a  live  example  of  which  was  kept  by  the 
author  for  some  time,  as  follows : 

"  My  new  pet  evidently  expected  fair  treatment 
at  our  hands,  for  he  soon  uncoiled  himself  and 
stood  up  for  examination.  He  was  just  three  feet 
long,  including  his  tail,  —  which  by  itself  measured 
seventeen  inches,  —  and  his  weight  was  eighteen 
pounds.  This  tail  was  a  most  useful  appendage, 
for  it  was  very  broad,  measuring  five  and  a  half 
inches  across  where  it  joined  the  body,  slightly 
hollowed  underneath  and  rounded  'on  the  top,  its 


68  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

official  purpose  being  to  protect  the  animal's  head. 
In  walking,  he  carried  his  back  very  highly  arched 
in  the  middle,  and  ...  his  heavy  tail  barely  cleared 
the  ground.  .  .  . 

"  If  ever  a  small  animal  was  especially  created 
to  resist  the  attacks  of  destroyers,  that  manis  must 
have  been  the  one.  In  such  plate-armor  as  he 
wore  he  could  roll  himself  up  and  defy  the  teeth 
of  the  jackal,  or  leopard,  or  the  fangs  of  the  cobra. 
Having  no  teeth  at  all,  and  claws  fashioned  only 
for  digging,  he  would  have  fared  badly  in  the 
jungle  without  his  defensive  coat  of  mail.  From 
the  tip  of  his  nose  to  the  tip  of  his  tail  he  was 
covered  with  broad,  flattened,  shield-shaped  plates 
of  clear,  gray  horn.  .  .  . 

"  Not  having  any  one  to  introduce  me,  I  under- 
took to  get  along  without  that  formality;  but  it 
was  of  no  use.  He  immediately  tucked  his  head 
down  between  his  fore  legs,  brought  his  tail  under 
his  body  and  up  over  his  head,  and  held  it  there, 
forming  of  himself  a  flattened  ball  completely  cov- 
ered with  scales. 

"  I  said  to  him,  '  My  fine  fellow,  I  really  must 
insist  upon  knowing  you  more  intimately ;  so  here 
goes.' 

"  I  then  undertook  to  uncoil  him,  but  found  I 
could  not  accomplish  the  task  alone.  I  called 
Henrique  to  help  me,  but  the  tail  stuck  to  the 
body,  as  if  it  had  been  riveted  there. 

"  I  also  called  Canis  to  help,  and  while  I  held 


in  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  69 

the  body,  the  other  two  braced  themselves  against 
me  and  pulled  on  the  tail  with  all  their  strength, 
to  uncoil  it.  We  wrestled  with  it  until  we  were 
fairly  exhausted,  failed  utterly,  and  gave  up  beaten. 
Such  was  the  wonderful  power  in  the  tail  of  that 
small  animal." 

As  a  receptacle  and  carrier  of  eggs  the  tail  parts 
of  certain  among  the  lower  animals  serve  an  im- 
portant purpose  in  their  economy.  In  the  lobster, 
and  its  miniature,  the  fresh-water  crayfish,  the 
latter  segments  of  the  abdomen  form  a  fan-shaped 
tail,  on  the  under  surface  of  which  are  small  ap- 
pendages called  swimmerets.  When  the  eggs  have 
ripened  between  the  ovaries  of  the  female  (whose 
swimmerets  are  especially  adapted  to  their  purpose, 
and  different  from  those  of  the  male),  they  are  ex- 
truded from  openings  in  the  second  pair  of  legs, 
just  back  of  the  great  front  claws.  These  eggs 
are  covered  with  a  viscid  matter,  something  like 
those  of  the  frog,  which  is  readily  drawn  out  into 
threads.  These  threads  become  entangled  with 
the  hairs  covering  the  swimmerets,  and  thus  sev- 
eral hundreds  of  eggs  attach  themselves  to  each 
swimmeret,  and  appear  as  large  grape-like  bunches, 
filling  the  whole  space  beneath  the  tail.  Here  they 
develop  under  the  most  favorable  conditions,  and 
after  the  young  have  hatched,  these  hold  on  to  the 
swimmerets,  and  are  carried  about  and  protected 
by  the  mother  until  they  are  able  to  care  for  them- 
selves. Here  is  another  caudal  nursery. 


JQ  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Perhaps  this  is  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  speak 
of  one  of  the  most  comical  uses  to  which  a  tail  is 
put — that  in  the  opossum  family.  Here  the  rat- 
like,  wiry  tail  is  decidedly  prehensile  —  a  feature 
to  be  spoken  of  later.  The  opossum  uses  it  con- 
stantly to  grasp  the  limbs  and  assist  her  climbing 
and  holding  on.  When  her  young  are  large  enough 
to  go  out  with  her,  which  is  soon  after  they  are 
born,  she  endeavors  to  lead  or  carry  them  through 
the  tree-tops,  and  struggles  to  climb  about  the 
branches,  and  make  use  of  her  prehensile  tail  as 
she  is  accustomed  to  do;  but  she  often  finds  that 
member  of  no  use,  for  eight  or  ten  squeaking  little 
brats,  miniatures  of  herself,  are  digging  their  sharp 
toes  into  her  fur  and  clinging  with  their  own  tails 
tightly  twisted  around  hers,  which  is  curved  over 
her  back  to  form  a  hand-rail  for  the  young  crew. 
If  one  lets  go  of  this  convenient  member,  it  is 
only  to  take  a  convulsive  half-hitch  around  some 
twig,  and  thus  anchor  the  whole  company,  or  to 
choke  the  poor  mother  by  a  twist  around  her  throat 
or  impede  her  movements  by  a  death-like  grasp  of 
one  or  more  of  her  legs.  The  same  useful  mem- 
ber —  a  fifth  hand,  as  it  has  often  been  called  — 
enables  baby  monkeys  of  the  prehensile-tailed 
South  American  kinds,  to  cling  to  the  mothers 
in  their  almost  aerial  flights  through  the  tree- 
tops. 

The  use  of  its  tail  as  a  tool  (distinguished  from 
a  weapon)  is  common  enough  in  the  animal  king- 


in  THE   SERVICE    OF  TAILS  Jl 

dom,  without  going  into  the  region  of  fable  for 
instances,  as  the  old  writers  used  to  do  when  they 
told  how  the  beaver  brought  mud  and  laid  it,  ma- 
son-like, with  his  tail  for  a  trowel.  If  this  member 
has  any  part  in  the  beaver's  architecture,  it  is  only 
by  the  accidental  slaps  and  rubs  it  may  give  to  the 
muddy  structure  as  the  animal  swims  around  it. 
The  scaly,  vertically  compressed,  knife-like  tail  of 
the  muskrat  would  be  much  better  adapted  to  such 
a  service,  but  the  muskrat  puts  little  or  no  mud 
into  its  house  building.  What  the  stout,  scaly, 
spatulate  tail  of  the  beaver  really  does  do,  is  to 
serve  as  a  powerful  sculling  oar  and  rudder  in 
swimming  and  diving ;  and  the  same  is  true  of  the 
muskrat. 

One  of  the  most  curious  features  of  that  curious 
creature,  the  king-crab,  or  horse-foot,  of  our  sea- 
shores, is  the  flexibly 
jointed,  bayonet-like 
spine  which  forms  its 
tail,  and  has  no  ana- 
logue elsewhere  among 
crustaceans.  Keenly 
acquires  it  as  he  ap- 
proaches adult  age,  so  that  it  is,  as  Lockwood 
expresses  it,  "a  sword  of  honor,"  betokening  the 
end  of  youth.  Whether  or  not  this  sharp  rapier 
is  of  value  as  a  weapon  nobody  seems  to  know, 
but  it  certainly  makes  a  capital  alpenstock.  The 
horse-foot  is  light,  and  is  liable,  by  the  least  agita- 


/2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

tion  of  the  water,  to  be  turned  on  its  back,  when 
it  would  be  as  helpless  as  a  tortoise  but  for  this 
sharp  spike,  the  point  of  which  it  deflects  and 
forces  into  the  sand,  thus  lifting  its  hinder  parts, 
and  enabling  it  to  roll  over  upon  its  feet  again. 
Moreover,  were  it  not  for  this  natural  leaping-pole, 
which  is  planted  firmly  in  her  rear  as  a  brace,  the 
female  horse-foot  would  be  unable  to  push  her 
carapace  into  the  sand,  and  thus  make  the  burrow 
which  she  requires  for  her  eggs. 

Many  of  the  smaller,  bivalved  mollusks,  or 
"shell-fish,"  of  sandy  ocean-shores  are  persistent 
burrowers,  and  all  delve  tail  foremost.  The  com- 
mon soft  clam  is  a  good  example.  Here  the 
pointed,  pliable  tip  of  the  body,  which  may  be 
called  its  tail,  is  the  tool  used ;  and  on  page  159  of 
my  "  Country  Cousins," l  the  way  in  which  the 
operation  is  cleverly  performed  by  the  pretty  little 
Donax,  or  wedge-shell,  is  fully  explained. 

The  adroitness  with  which  animals  have  caught 
fish  with  their  tails  as  lures  and  sometimes  as 
lines,  forms  the  theme  of  many  a  barbaric  legend 
and  myth.  The  Norse  people  say  that  the  bear 
once  had  a  long  tail,  but  under  the  advice  of  the 
fox,  who  was  jealous  of  bruin's  rivalry  in  the 
matter  of  caudal  adornment,  he  lowered  it  through 
a  hole  in  the  ice  as  a  fish-line,  and  held  it  there 

1  Country  Cousins.  Short  Studies  in  the  Natural  History  of  the 
United  States.  By  Ernest  Ingersoll.  Pages  252.  Illustrated. 
Square  8vo.  Harper  &  Brothers,  New  York,  1884.  Cloth,  $2.50. 


Ill  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  73 

until  it  froze  in,  and  its  discomfited  owner  could 
get  away  only  by  breaking  it  off  —  mighty  near 
its  root,  as  any  one  can  see  to  this  day.  This 
story,  paralleled  elsewhere  in  folk-lore,  is  an  amus- 
ing fancy ;  but  one  might  imagine  a  monkey  really 
able  to  do  something  of  that  kind,  if  any  monkey 
could  be  found  which  cared  for  fish. 

An  actual  instance,  however,  is  afforded  by  the 
fish-eating  bat  of  Trinidad  (Noctilio  leporinus), 
which  finds  its  tail,  and  the  membranes  that  con- 
nect that  appendage  with  the  thighs,  of  eminent 
service  to  it.  Observers  in  the  Trinidad  Field 
Naturalists'  Club  report  (see  their  Journal,  Vol.  I, 
page  204)  that  this  bat  catches  its  prey  (a  fish)  by 
throwing  it  up  with  the  interfemoral  membrane. 
Simultaneously  the  bat  bends  its  head  toward  its 
tail  to  seize  the  fish  as  it  is  thrown  from  the  water. 
Probably  its  long,  sharp,  curved  toe-nails  are  also 
of  assistance  in  this  queer  method  of  fishing. 

Similarly,  ingenious  rats  have  been  known  to 
purloin  oil,  jelly,  and  such  desirable  liquids  from 
bottles  too  narrow  for  their  entrance,  by  inserting 
their  tails,  and  then  licking  the  dripping  member, 
or  giving  it  to  a  neighbor  to  lick.  Professor 
George  J.  Romanes  proved  beyond  question  that 
they  did  so,  by  experiments  which  are  detailed 
in  his  book,  "  Animal  Intelligence,"  to  which  the 
reader  is  referred. 

A  like  utilization  of  resources  is  the  strategy  of 
the  puma,  as  observed  on  the  Patagonian  pampas, 


74 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


where  he  lies  flat  down  within  view  of  a  herd  of 
guanacos  that  are  feeding  towards  him,  and  hold- 
ing up  the  end  of  his  tail  (which  is  nearly  black) 
lets  it  tremble  there.  It  is  sure  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  the  animals,  who  are  certain  to  approach, 
led  by  curiosity,  near  enough  to  give  the  big  cat  a 
certain  capture  of  one  if  not  more  of  their  number. 

The  tails  of  creatures  that  swim  or  fly  perform 
a  very  important  service  in  these  methods  of  loco- 
motion; while  in  many  cases  this  is  a  helpful  or 
even  indispensable  member  in  progression  upon 
land.  The  tremendous  leaps  of  the  minute  skip- 
jack beetles,  and  of  the  agile  sand-fleas,  are  made 
by  springing  from  the  bent  hinder  parts  of  their 
body,  and  not  by  leg-force,  as  in  the  cases  of  the 
grasshopper  and  true  fleas.  Certain  fishes,  like 
the  file-fish,  are  accustomed  to  poise  themselves 
upon  their  tails,  almost  motionless,  for  long  peri- 
ods, when  it  is  well-nigh  impossible  to  distinguish 
one  of  them  from  the  ribbons  of  the  eel-grass  in 
the  midst  of  which  they  dwell ;  while  the  eels  and 
many  serpents  are  able  to  stand  erect  upon  almost 
the  very  tip  of  the  tail,  or  to  hang  thereby,  and 
some  can  even  spring  off  from  it,  if  we  may  be- 
lieve the  statement  of  Professor  Owen,  though  I 
do  not  know  of  any  snake  quite  so  acrobatic. 

It  is  related  in  the  older  books  of  natural  history 
that  the  kangaroo  sits,  when  reared  up,  upon  his 
massive  tail  and  strong  hind  limbs,  as  upon  a  tri- 
pod ;  and  that  it  is  by  the  elastic  force  of  the  tail 


THE   SERVICE    OF  TAILS 


that  it  is  enabled  to  make  its  long,  running  leaps, 
which,  in  the  case  of  the  large  wallaby,  will  aver- 
age eight  or  ten  yards  at  each  jump.  This  is  now 
known  to  be  largely  an  error ;  the  truth  (as  shown 
by  its  tracks  in  the  mud  and  by  careful  observa- 
tion) is,  that  the  tail  only  just  touches  the  ground 
now  and  then ;  yet  it  is  plain  that  this  heavy  mem- 
ber serves  a  useful  purpose  in  balancing  the  creat- 
ure. The  same  must 
have  been  true  of  those 
vast  reptiles  of  the 
Mesozoic  days,  the 
dinosaurs,  whose 


IKE  JERBOA 
KANGAROO. 


tracks  are 
impressed  so  plen- 
tifully upon  the 
brownstone  rocks 
of  the  Connecticut 

valley,  and  of  similar  animals,  in  other  parts  of  the 
ancient  world,  known  to  have  had  enormous  caudal 
parts  —  a  characteristic  of  primitive  forms. 

One  very  distinct  service  the  tail  of  one  modern 
marsupial  may  perform,  is  illustrated  in  the  be- 
havior of  the  jerboa  kangaroo,  which  collects  the 


76  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

grass  for  its  nest  and  takes  it  home  in  a  bundle  or 
thick  wisp,  grasped  in  the  curled-up  extremity  of 
its  strongly  prehensile  tail.  Gould  illustrates  this 
in  his  monograph  on  the  Macropodidae ;  and  re- 
marks that,  "  as  may  be  easily  imagined,  their  ap- 
pearance, when  leaping  toward  their  nests  with 
their  tails  loaded  with  grasses,  is  exceedingly 
amusing." 

Referring  again,  for  a  moment,  to  the  suggestion 
that  the  tail  in  the  large  wallabies,  and  creatures  of 
similar  proportions,  is  useful  as  a  balancing-pole,  it 
may  be  added  that  a  similar  explanation  has  been 
offered  for  the  long  tails  that  characterize  most  of 
the  mice,  especially  those  like  the  zapus  and  jerboa 
that  are  powerful  leapers ;  at  any  rate,  the  service 
of  a  balancing-pole  is  unquestionably  performed  by 
the  tails  of  many  climbing  and  jumping  mammals, 
and  by  all  birds,  as  can  be  well  seen  in  the  act  of 
alighting.  As  for  the  tufts  common  at  the  ends  of 
many  of  the  long-tailed  mice,  etc.,  it  has  been  said 
that  that  was  an  extra  advantage  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, comparable  to  the  string  of  knotted  papers 
that  boys  attach  to  their  kites. 

Another  quaint  explanation  of  the  tufted  and 
brush-tipped  tails  will  be  noticed  farther  on. 

To  many  tree-haunting  animals,  such  as  the 
opossum,  the  South  American  forest  monkeys,  and 
some  others,  the  tail  has  been  modified  into  a  most 
effective  instrument  for  grasping  and  holding  on, 
even  in  sleep,  by  the  acquirement  of  what  is  called 


in  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  77 

prehensibility  in  its  tip,  similar  to  that  in  the  toes 
of  perching-birds,  which  close  tightly  around  a 
twig,  without  any  effort  on  the  bird's  part,  simply 
as  the  result  of  the  pressure  of  its  weight. 

Charles  Waterton  points  out  that  this  faculty  is 
of  manifest  advantage  to  the  animal,  either  when 
sitting  in  repose  on  the  branch  of  a  tree  or  during 
its  journey  onward  through  the  gloomy  recesses 
of  the  wilderness.  "You  may  see  this  monkey," 
he  writes,  "  catching  hold  of  the  branches  with 
its  hands,  and  at  the  same  time  twisting  its  tail 
around  one  of  them,  as  if  in  want  of  additional 
support;  and  this  prehensile  tail  is  sufficiently 
strong  to  hold  the  animal  in  its  place,  even  when 
all  its  four  limbs  are  detached  from  the  tree,  so 
that  it  can  swing  to  and  fro,  and  amuse  itself, 
solely  through  the  instrumentality  of  its  prehen- 
sile tail  —  which,  by  the  way,  would  be  of  no  man- 
ner of  use  to  it  did  accident  or  misfortune  force 
the  monkey  to  take  up  a  temporary  abode  upon 
the  ground.  For  several  inches  from  its  extremity, 
by  nature  and  by  constant  use,  this  tail  has  as- 
sumed somewhat  the  appearance  of  the  inside  of 
a  man's  finger,  entirely  denuded  of  hair  or  fur 
underneath,  but  not  so  on  the  upper  part." 

Prehensibility  is  equally  well  developed  in  the 
naked,  rat-like  tail  of  the  'possum  of  our  Northern 
woods,  and  to  a  less  extent  in  the  manis;  in  the 
Old  World,  or  true,  chameleon ;  in  the  tips  of  the 
tails  of  tree-clinging  serpents ;  and  among  fishes 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


it  exists  perfectly  in  the  quaint  little  sea-horse 
(Hippocampus),  which  is  a  poor  swimmer,  and  rests 
by  hooking  its  tail 
around  a  bit  of  sea- 
weed or  coral,  or 
through  a  hole  in  a 
broken  shell,  thus  an- 
choring itself  securely. 
A  service  of  the 
same  nature  is  per- 
formed by  the  tail  of 
many  birds  that  are 
accustomed  to  climb 
about  the  trunks  of 
trees,  and  cling  to 
upright  rocks,  etc.,  in- 
stead of  walking  on 
the  ground  or  perch- 
ing upon  the  branches. 
Familiar  examples  are 
the  woodpeckers,  nut- 
hatches, creeping- 
wrens  (Certhiadae),  and  swifts.  Whenever  these 
birds  rest  a  moment  they  press  the  tail  hard  against 
the  bark  or  other  surface  to  which  they  cling  with 
muscular  toes,  and  lean  upon  it.  Such  a  leverage 
is  very  important  to  enable  the  woodpeckers  and  nut- 
hatches to  deliver  their  sturdy  and  repeated  blows ; 
and  without  such  a  support  the  swift  could  hardly 
hold  itself,  as  it  does  for  long  periods,  at  rest 


PREHENSILE  TAIL  OF  THE 
SEA-HORSE. 


Ill  THE  SERVICE    OF  TAILS  79 

against  the  wall  of  a  hollow  tree,  rock-crevice,  or 
chimney.  As  a  result,  the  end  of  the  tail-feathers 
of  such  birds  has  become  stiffened  and  capable  of 
this  special  work  to  a  remarkable  degree ;  while  in 
the  case  of  the  common  chimney  swift,  and  some 
similar,  rock-climbing  species  of 
the  East,  the  shafts  of  the 
feathers  project  beyond  the 
vanes  in  long,  sharp  spines, 
equal  in  effect  to  the  climbing- 
irons  of  a  telegraph  lineman. 

Among  animals  that  live  in 
the  water,  the  tail  becomes  of 
supreme    importance    in    loco- 
motion.     The    shrimp's    swim-     SPINES  TERMINATING 
r  .  THE    TAIL-QUILLS 

ming  is  wholly  by  reaching  its         OF  A  SWIFT. 

tail  out  and  pulling  itself  back- 
ward.    This,  of  course,  is  the  principle  of  the  oar ; 
and   the   shrimp  is  able  to   "feather,"  since  the 
plates  of  his  tail  shut  up  like  a  fan  in  recovering 
for  a  new  stroke. 

It  is  mainly  as  a  screw-propeller,  however,  that 
their  tails  serve  the  swimmers  —  precisely  the  mo- 
tion a  man  makes  when  sculling  a  boat  by  a  single 
oar  held  over  the  stern.  This  motion  is  plainly 
visible  in  fishes,  the  most  swift  and  powerful  among 
which  have  the  smallest  body-fins ;  and  it  is  solely 
by  this  sculling  movement  of  the  tail  that  the  shark 
and  bluefish  make  such  terrific  rushes  after  prey, 
that  the  trout  is  able  to  give  the  angler  so  much 


80  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

work,  and  the  salmon  to  climb  or  leap  up  water- 
falls, the  ascent  of  which  excites  our  amazement. 
Alligators,  crocodiles,  and  aquatic  lizards,  such  as 
those  of  India  and  Egypt,. have  little  other  means 
of  progress  under  water,  yet  they  are  powerful 
swimmers;  the  Nile  monitor,  in  fact,  can  swim 
much  faster  than  young  crocodiles  of  its  own  size, 
of  which  it  captures  and  devours  large  numbers, 
by  reason  of  the  vertical  flattening  of  its  tail. 
The  profound  diving  of  a  whale,  the  follow-my- 
leader  bounding  play  of  the  porpoise  and  dolphin, 
and  the  impetus  for  soaring  gained  by  the  flying- 
fish,  are  all  due  to  the  propulsion  of  the  tail,  the 
principle  of  which  is  embodied  in  the  two-bladed 
propellers  of  our  swift  steamships.  Even  some  of 
the  diving-birds  make  their  way  under  the  surface 
by  closing  their  wings  and  sculling  the  short  and 
stiff  feathers  of  the  tail,  though  other  diving-birds 
paddle  with  their  wings  under  the  water  just  as 
they  fly  in  the  air. 

In  all  these  flying  and  swimming  creatures,  not 
only  birds  and  fishes,  but  the  marine  mammals  and 
the  flying  quadrupeds,  the  tail  is  a  rudder,  as  well 
as  a  propeller  and  balance.  This  is  easily  observa- 
ble not  only  in  the  flight  of  any  bird,  but  in  that  of 
the  flying  and  leaping  squirrels ;  and  no  doubt  it 
is  an  essential  part  of  the  apparatus  for  flight  pos- 
sessed by  these  animals,  —  including  the  checking 
and  controlling  of  the  speed,  as  observation  of  a 
bird  passing  or  alighting  will  quickly  show ;  while 


in  THE   SERVICE    OF   TAILS  8 1 

the  same  observation  may  prove  true  of  winged 
insects  having  hinder  appendages  or  prolonged 
abdomens,  such  as  dragon-flies.  "Short-tailed 
birds,"  remarks  Frank  M.  Chapman,  "generally 
fly  in  a  straight  course,  and  cannot  make  sharp 
turns,  while  long-tailed  birds  can  pursue  a  most 
erratic  course  with  marvellous  ease  and  grace. 
The  grebes  are  practically  tailless,  and  their  flight 
is  comparatively  direct,  but  the  swallow-tailed  kite, 
with  a  tail  a  foot  or  more  in  length,  can  dash  to 
right  or  left  at  the  most  abrupt  angle." 

Many  a  wild  creature  trusts  to  its  tail  for  defence 
in  time  of  danger,  and  finds  in  it  an  offensive  as 
well  as  a  defensive  weapon  of  no  mean  worth.  The 
"  fighting  formation  "  of  the  American  porcupine, 
for  instance,1  is  to  turn  its  back  on  its  foe,  hide  its 
head  beneath  its  thorny  neck,  and  strike  right  and 
left  with  its  short,  spade-shaped  tail :  this  organ 
is  armed  with  the  longest  and  strongest  spines, 
and  it  is  astonishing  what  a  quick,  forcible,  and 
effective  blow  the  little  animal  can  thus  deliver. 
It  is  probable  that  the  heavy,  knobbed  tail  of 
the  gigantic  Mesozoic  glyptodon  was  similarly 
used.  Whales  will  stave  a  boat  to  pieces  by 
a  stroke  with  their  powerful  flukes ;  and  the 
"thresher"  shark  takes  his  name  from  his  habit 
of  swinging  violently  back  and  forth  the  long 
scythe-like  prolongation  of  the  upper  half  of  his 
tail-fin.  It  is  said  that  he  kills  small  fishes  for  his 

1  See  also  Chapter  VII,  page  188. 


82  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

prey  by  thus  thrashing  about  in  a  school  of  them, 
and  that  several  of  these  sharks,  combining  in 
their  attack,  will  beat  a  whale  to  death ;  but  there 
is  little  evidence  of  the  truth  of  either  assertion. 


THE  THRESHER  SHARK. 

As  for  crocodiles  and  alligators,  although  their 
dreadful  jaws  are  their  principal  weapon,  the  blow 
one  of  these  great  saurians  can  give,  when  he 
"  swings  the  scaly  horror  of  his  folded  tail,"  is 
justly  to  be  dreaded  by  anything  it  may  come 
into  contact  with.  How  serviceable  this  member 
may  be  to  the  East  African  crocodile,  for  instance, 
appears  from  the  narrative  of  Dr.  J.  W.  Gregory, 
the  author  of  "The  Great  Rift  Valley,"  who  re- 
lates his  experience  with  them  on  the  Tana  River 
as  follows : 

"  The  animals  are  surprised  when  asleep  on  the 
bank,  and  killed  with  spears ;  but  the  work  is 
rather  dangerous,  and  inexperienced  men  are  fre- 
quently knocked  over  by  a  blow  from  the  reptile's 
tail,  and  dragged  into  the  river.  ...  I  was  once 
fishing  in  the  river  Ngatana,  from  a  bank  about 
six  feet  above  it,  when  the  chief  came  and  warned 
me  not  to  sit  so  near  the  water,  as  a  crocodile 
might  knock  me  into  it  by  a  blow  with  his  tail.  .  .  . 


in  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  83 

Later  on,  I  found  that  the  natives  of  other  Pokomo 
villages  attribute  the  same  power  to  the  crocodile, 
and  the  German  missionaries  at  Ngao  knew  of 
cases  where  people  had  been  thus  swept  into  the 
river  and  killed.  The  natives  on  the  Nile  told 
Sir  Samuel  Baker  the  same  story,  and  it  is  hardly 
likely  that  it  would  have  been  independently  in- 
vented in  two  such  distant  localities,  and  by  such 
different  tribes,  if  it  had  no  basis  in  fact." 

Of  course  if  a  man,  then  an  antelope,  or  fish- 
seeking  cat,  or  any  other  animal  of  similar  size, 
could  be  knocked  into  the  stream  and  preyed 
upon;  and  that  this  must  often  happen  is  mani- 
fest from  the  great  numbers  of  these  reptiles  which 
inhabit  streams  too  small  to  furnish  sufficient  food 
in  the  way  of  fishes  alone. 

The  same  habit  belongs  to  the  lesser  land-lizards, 
all  of  which  whip  severely  with  their  tails  when 
fighting,  large  ones,  like  the  South  American 
teguexin,  being  able  to  keep  dogs  at  a  dis- 
tance by  their  fear  of  these  blows ;  and  it  is 
said  that  in  their  quarrels  most  lizards  seek  first 
of  all  to  disable  the  opponent's  tail,  success  in 
which  manoeuvre  wins  the  battle.  This  seems  to 
be  a  trifling  casualty  in  the  case  of  many  species, 
such  as  the  geckos,  and  some  American  lizards, 
whose  tails  break  off  on  the  slightest  provocation, 
sometimes,  apparently,  as  a  wilful  stratagem  on 
the  creature's  part,  of  which  a  good  example 
is  found  in  the  behavior  of  the  very  common 


84  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

ground-lizard  of  the  Southern  States  (Oligosoma 
laterali),  as  described  by  Mr.  H.  C.  Bumpus  and 
others : 

"If  captured,  —  a  by  no  means  easy  task,— 
they  make  no  violent  effort  to  escape,  but,  with  a 
most  droll  expression,  they  eye  their  captor ;  soon 
winning  his  confidence,  but  betraying  it  at  the 
most  unexpected  moment,  for  with  a  quick  strug- 
gle the  tail  is  dropped  off,  and,  before  one  has 
recovered  from  his  surprise,  no  lizard  is  to  be  seen, 
the  tail  only  remaining,  which  for  some  little  time 
twists  about  with  as  much  vigor  as  when  attached 
to  its  owner. 

"The  self -mutilation  of  the  lizard  offers  a  re* 
markable  instance  of  protection,"  comments  Mr. 
Bumpus.  "  It  will  be  seen  that  the  animal,  being 
comparatively  slow  of  foot,  cannot  ordinarily  seek 
safety  in  flight,  and  having  no  organs  of  defence, 
it,  on  being  attacked,  breaks  off  a  portion  of  its 
tail,  which,  still  alive  and  twisting  about  by  reflex 
action,  attracts  the  attention  of  the  enemy,  and 
the  lizard,  unencumbered  and  unnoticed,  glides 
into  some  crevice  and  is  safe. 

"The  muscles  of  the  tail  are  so  arranged  thai 
they,  by  contraction,  close  over  the  place  of 
amputation,  and  bleeding  is  prevented.  From 
the  thus  blunted  appendage  a  new  rudiment 
soon  appears,  which,  in  a  short  time,  replaces  the 
lost  part." 

Now  this  is  all  matter  of  fact,  and  true  of  several 


ill  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  85 

other  lizards ; l  and  I  have  no  disposition  to  deny 
the  practical  service  it  is  to  the  species  possessing 
such  brittle  tails,  on  the  principle  that  a  man  thanks 
his  stars  for  the  fire-escape  that  enables  him  to  save 
his  life  even  at  the  expense  of  all  his  property  :  but 
some  of  the  darwinizing  it  has  received  is  beyond 
my  following,  at  any  rate.  Mr.  Poulton,  for  in- 
stance, reasons  that  the  very  length  of  the  tail  is 
a  protective  product  of  natural  selection,  it  having 
been  so  increased  for  the  express  purpose  of 
making  it  easier  for  an  enemy  to  seize  it,  and  thus 
more  surely  fail  (by  reason  of  its  breaking  off)  to 
catch  the  body  of  the  lizard;  we  are  told  that 
"tails  "  on  the  wings  of  certain  butterflies  are  made 
conspicuous  for  a  like  reason.  Then  Mr.  Poulton 
goes  on  to  argue  further  that  the  long  tails  charac- 
teristic of  most  mice,  and  especially  of  the  many 
species  which  have  a  racket-shaped  or  brush-like 
tuft  of  hair  at  the  end,  are  due  to  the  same  influ- 
ence :  and,  furthermore,  that  an  explanation  of  the 
bushy  tails  of  the  squirrel,  fox,  wolf,  jackal,  etc., 
is  contained  in  the  same  protective  hypothesis. 

1  It  is  also  true  of  a  small  snail  in  the  Philippines,  whose  "  tail " 
(properly  the  hinder  end  of  its  body  or  foot)  will  break  off  if  seized : 
as  it  is  more  highly  colored  than  any  other  part,  it  is  the  most  con- 
spicuous point  for  seizure,  but  the  bird  or  lizard  that  takes  hold 
there  gets  nothing  but  a  wriggling  tip  for  his  pains,  while  the  snail 
drops  to  the  ground  and  hides.  Semper,  who  expounds  this  doc- 
trine at  length,  says  that  he  lost  specimens  frequently  by  trying  to 
pick  them  up  by  their  tails  ;  and  that  ten  per  cent,  of  these  snails 
(Helicarion)  showed  the  scar  of  a  previous  loss. 


86  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Now  from  appearances  alone  one  might  build  up 
a  pretty  bit  of  logical  fancy-work  like  this,  but 
habits  as  well  as  structure  must  be  considered,  — 
use  as  well  as  shape.  Otherwise  we  shall  make 
the  mistake  of  the  birds  who  sit  on  telegraph  wires 
and  point  out  to  one  another  the  beneficence  of 
humanity,  which  has  considerately  provided  them 
with  perches :  and  how,  in  beautiful  adaptation,  the 
perches  are  most  extensive  and  numerous  precisely 
in  those  cleared  and  cultivated  parts  of  the  country 
where  the  birds  are  in  greatest  number  and  most  in 
need  of  such  conveniences  ! 

Let  us  look  at  the  matter  from  the  side  of  actual 
habits.  In  the  first  place,  we  notice  that  many  of 
the  long-tailed  lizards  (and  some  among  them 
having  the  most  whip-like  tails)  are  not  provided 
with  the  detachable  arrangement,  at  all,  so  that  in 
their  case  the  slenderness  and  length  of  this  ap- 
pendage must  be  due  to  other  causes;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  many  lizards  have  very  short  and 
stubbed  tails,  yet  seem  to  thrive  as  well.  Next,  of 
all  the  natural  enemies  of  the  lizard  only  one  kind 
— -the  snakes  —  might  be  supposed  to  creep  upon 
them  from  the  rear,  and  hence  seize  the  extended 
tail  first ;  and  these  would  be  obliged  to  let  go  later, 
and  take  a  new  hold  of  their  prey,  in  order  to 
profit  by  it,  —  a  movement  which  would  set  the 
quick  lizard  free  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a 
hundred.  A  snake  must  swallow  this  or  any  large 
animal  headforemost,  and  always  endeavors  to  seize 


Ill  THE  SERVICE    OF  TAILS  8/ 

it  by  the  head,  because  the  ordinary  serpent  having 
once  seized  a  victim  never  lets  go  until  he  has 
swallowed  it.  Lastly,  there  is  no  observable  dif- 
ference, so  far  as  this  point  is  concerned,  between 
the  behavior  of  those  lizards  with  long  brittle  tails 
and  those  with  firm  tails  or  scarcely  any  tail  at  all ; 
and  the  most  brittle  one  of  all,  the  "  glass  snake," 
so  called,  is  a  subterranean  species  that  rarely  ex- 
poses either  end  of  its  body  to  capture. 

As  to  the  mice,  they  do  not  ordinarily  carry  their 
tails  in  an  extended  position,  but  almost  invariably 
keep  them  curled  about  their  feet,  as  if  they  were 
afraid  something  might  bite  them,  instead  of  anx- 
ious to  induce  a  possible  foe  to  seize  them,  in  order 
that  they  might  jerk  them  out  of  his  clutch  and 
laugh  at  his  discomfiture  at  finding  only  a  mouth- 
ful of  fur  instead  of  a  fat  morsel  in  his  teeth.  No 
mouse  or  squirrel  is  fool  enough  for  that ;  and  if 
by  accident,  the  situation  is  ever  created,  no  pur- 
suer is  fool  enough  to  sit  still  and  curse  his  luck 
while  the  mutilated  mouse  or  squirrel  ambles  gaily 
away.  Moreover,  there  are  short-tailed  mice.  With 
such  bushy-tailed  quadrupeds  as  the  wolves,  jack- 
als, and  foxes,  the  case  is  still  worse  for  the  argu- 
ment. The  very  last  thing  such  an  animal  does, 
when  in  danger,  is  to  straighten  out  his  tail.  His 
first  impulse,  on  the  contrary,  is  to  tuck  it  as  far 
between  his  hind  legs  as  he  can.  The  very  hard- 
est part  for  an  enemy  to  seize  would  be  its  bushy 
toil,  and  the  worst ;  for  instantly  the  head  would 


88  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

fly  around,  and,  finding  the  attacker  engaged, 
would  have  an  advantage  in  a  fight  for  life  which 
no  wild  animal  would  ever  allow  another.  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  fox  saving  himself  by  yielding  his 
brush,  as  Siberian  travellers  are  said  to  throw  mit- 
tens, children,  and  the  like,  to  bears  that  chase 
their  sledges.  The  fact  is,  that  about  all  of  a  fox 
which  remains  uninjured,  and  is  preservable  as  a 
trophy,  after  the  huntsman's  pack  has  pulled  him 
down,  is  his  brush,  in  which  the  dogs  take  no 
interest. 

If,  instead  of  this  wild  escapade  in  evolution  the 
writer  quoted  had  devoted  himself  to  showing  that 
the  short  tail  of  most  of  the  deer,  antelopes  and 
goats,  and  of  rabbits  and  burrowing  rodents,  which 
are  regularly  chased  by  swift-footed  canine  beasts, 
was  due  to  the  gradual  reduction  of  this  append- 
age through  natural  selection,  because  length  was 
a  disadvantage  in  bulk  and  otherwise,  without  cor- 
responding service,  he  might  have  made  an  argu- 
ment both  credible  and  interesting.  These  animals 
are  pursued  by  the  carnivora,  which,  when  overtak- 
ing them,  might  seize  a  long  tail,  as  they  would 
have  nothing  to  fear  from  their  jaws.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  this  often  happens  to  wild  cattle,  as  used 
to  be  illustrated  on  our  western  plains  —  the  fore- 
most wolf  of  the  pack  fastening  himself  to  the 
buffalo's  tail,  and  dragging  back  until  its  compan- 
ions had  reached  and  seized  the  nose  and  flanks 
of  the  retarded  animal.  It  might  be  adduced  in 


m  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  89 

support  of  this  that  the  tails  of  the  horse,  zebra, 
and  other  equines,  and  such  large  horse-like  ante- 
lopes as  the  gnus,  had  remained  long,  and  often 
really  bushy,  because  these  animals  were  kickers, 
and  able  to  prevent  with  their  heels  any  attempt  to 
bite  this  long  appendage.  A  natural  corollary  of 
this  would  be  the  fact  that  the  secretive  habits  of 
the  mice,  which  live  in  holes,  are  mainly  nocturnal, 
and  are  attacked  by  large  animals  only  by  being 
pounced  upon  or  dug  out,  rendered  the  length  of 
their  tails  neither  helpful  nor  harmful  to  them  so 
far  as  enemies  are  concerned ;  having  probably  no 
more  to  do  with  their  means  of  defence  than  have 
their  large  ears  —  nor  so  much  ! 

Let  us,  after  this  digression,  return  to  the  main 
line  of  our  story,  and  ascertain  further  how  certain 
of  these  appendages  serve  as  weapons,  and  are 
even  armed  to  that  end. 

In  the  geological  long-ago  there  lived  flying 
saurians  with  long  tails ;  and  one  of  these,  de- 
scribed by  Professor  Marsh,  had  spines  two  feet 
long  on  the  side  of  its  tail,  running  outward  and 
backward. 

A  fish  more  unpleasant  to  meet  than  even  this 
long-departed  animal  is  well  known  along  our 
Eastern  coast,  as  well  as  in  many  other  parts  of 
the  world,  under  the  name  of  sting-ray,  or  stinga- 
ree.  The  rays  (or  skates)  are  flat,  triangular-shaped 
brutes,  allied  to  the  sharks  in  structure ;  and  they 
have  slender,  whiplash-like  tails.  That  of  the 


gQ  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

stingaree  (which  sometimes  reaches  a  length  of  ten 
feet)  bears  upon  its  top,  near  the  root,  a  long,  sharp 
and  barbed  spine,  with  which  it  is  able  to  inflict 

deep  and  danger- 
ous wounds,  when 
aroused  to  self-de- 
fence. Some  acrid 
or  poisonous  sub- 
stance seems  to  en- 
ter the  lacerations 
thus  made,  and  fish- 
ARMED  TAIL  OF  THE  STING-RAY.  ermen  nierced  in 

the  feet  or  hands  by  this  species,  or  by  the 
tropical  whip-ray,  as  often  happens,  find  their 
wounds  slow  and  painful  in  healing. 

Something  of  the  same  kind,  but  even  worse,  is 
the  stabbing  apparatus  of  the  surgeon-fish  of 
Florida  and  the  West  Indies.  "  Each  side  of  the 
tail,"  says  Goode,  "  is  provided  with  a  sharp, 
lancet-like  spine,  which,  when  at  rest,  is  received 
into  a  sheath,  but  it  may  be  thrust  out  at  right 
angles  to  the  body,  and  used  as  a  weapon  of 
offence ;  sweeping  the  tail  from  side  to  side  as 
they  swim,  they  can  inflict  very  serious  wounds, 
and  I  have  seen  in  the  Bermudas  large  fishes,  con- 
fined in  the  same  aquarium-tank  with  them,  cov- 
ered with  gashes  inflicted  in  this  manner." 

In  the  philosophy  of  animal  coloring  brought 
about  by  natural  selection,  which  has  been  elabo- 
rated by  Alfred  Russell  Wallace,  Mr.  Poulton,  and 


in  THE  SERVICE   OF  TAILS  91 

others,  a  prominent  part  is  often  assigned  to  the  tail 
as  a  badge  of  identity,  especially  among  mammals 
and  birds.  In  many  species  of  mammals  it  is  con- 
spicuously colored  above,  but  is  white  underneath, 
in  which  case  it  is  likely  to  be  carried  erect. 
Deer,  goats,  and  certain  antelopes  are  good  ex- 
amples; and  their  white  cocked-up  tails  are  the 
most  noticeable  part  of  them  as  they  flee  away, 
forming  an  unmistakable  mark  to  guide  their 
companions  whose  safety  lies  in  keeping  in  a  close 
herd.  Our  common  little  gray  rabbit,  or  "  Molly 
Cotton-tail,"  is  another  good  example ;  and  a  still 
more  striking  one  is  afforded  by  the  skunk,  as  is 
explained  in  the  chapter  on  that  interesting  ani- 
mal. Such  badges  are  called  "  recognition  colors  " ; 
and  their  primary  purpose  —  if  the  correctness  of 
the  theory  be  conceded  —  is  to  bring  the  sexes 
together.  I  have  spoken  of  tails  of  this  conspicu- 
ous sort  as  serving  the  purpose  of  marriage- 
advertisements  to  their  wearers. 

This  term  applies  even  more  exactly  to  the 
adornments  of  the  tail  (or  tail  coverts)  of  many 
birds,  such  as  are  seen  in  the  resplendent  fan  of 
the  peacock,  the  immensely  long  and  exquisitely 
ocellated  trains  of  the  argus  and  other  oriental 
pheasants,  the  lustrous  expanse  of  the  wild  turkey, 
and  in  many  other  large  birds,  which  display  these 
ornaments  to  their  fullest  extent,  while  they  pose 
and  strut  before  the  females  to  attract  their 
preference.  But  there  are  many  smaller  birds  in 


92  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

which  the  tail-feathers  are  greatly  prolonged,  modi- 
fied and  highly  ornamented  in  the  males,  appar- 
ently for  the  same  purpose.  Such,  for  example, 
are  the  trogons,  and  particularly  Guatemala's 
national  bird,  the  quesal,  which  opens  and  curls 
and  displays  the  long  emerald  plumes  that  descend 
from  his  tail  in  a  most  magnificent  manner  for 
the  benefit  of  his  plainly  dressed  mate.  How 
curious  are  the  tails  of  some  birds  of  paradise! 
The  humming-birds  offer  similar  examples:  but 
here  it  is  the  curious  shape  of  a  pair  or  so  of 
prolonged  rectrices  rather  than  their  color;  and 
one  may  guess  a  reason  for  this  when  he  watches 
a  hummer  on  the  wing,  for  so  exceedingly  rapid  is 
the  movement  of  the  wings  as  it  poises  before  a 
flower,  or  in  front  of  its  demure  little  mate,  that 
it  seems  only  a  jewel  flaming  in  a  mist  of  scintil- 
lant  light.  No  particular  ornament  or  pattern 
of  color  is  or  could  be  visible,  but  above  it,  raised 
and  steady,  are  the  long  tail-feathers,  straight, 
curved,  emarginate,  thread-like  or  variously  rack- 
eted, which  declare  its  identity  like  a  badge  to  the 
knowing  eyes  of  the  other  bird.  These  are  stand- 
ards—  recognition  marks  —  in  shape  as  well  as 
color;  and  they  signal  the  language  of  courtship 
at  the  same  time,  —  an  ornithological  flirtation. 

A  reminder  of  facts  like  these  —  especially  as 
regards  the  mammals  —  called  forth  recently  some 
suggestive  remarks  from  Dr.  E.  Bonavia,  of  Eng- 
land, as  follows : 


in  THE  SERVICE    OF  TAILS  93 

"  As  regards  the  white  tip  of  the  tail  of  certain 
mammals,  there  are  some  curious  phenomena 
connected  with  tips.  .  .  .  White  and  black  are 
interchangeable.  There  are  many  mammals  which 
have  black  tips  to  their  tails,  and  this,  in  allied  or 
other  individuals,  may  change  to  white.  The 
Arctic  hare  in  its  summer  dress  is  brown  with  black 
tips  to  his  ears;  and  the  ermine  is  also  brown  with 
half  the  tip  end  of  the  tail  black.  When  these 
two  animals  get  their  snow-white  winter  clothing 
the  tips  of  the  ears  of  the  one,  and  the  tip  of  the 
tail  of  the  other,  remain  black." 

These  peculiarities  of  color  may  be  correlated 
with  the  fact  that  the  tips  of  ears,  occasionally,  and 
the  tips  of  tails,  very  frequently,  are  adorned  with 
tufts  of  hair,  in  the  case  of  animals  not  otherwise 
long-furred.  That  is  the  case  with  all  the  hoofed 
beasts  that  have  long  tails,  as  the  horses  and  asses, 
cattle,  camels,  giraffe,  and  several  of  the  South 
African  antelopes ;  the  practical  service  of  this  as 
a  wisp  to  drive  away  biting  insects  is  recognized  by 
every  one ;  and  it  results  in  the  ability  of  such  ani- 
mals to  stay  on  the  plains  all  summer,  while  their 
short-tailed  relatives  are  obliged  to  migrate  to  moun- 
tain-tops and  other  regions  of  sometimes  poorer 
pasturage  in  order  to  escape  the  flies. 

This  phenomenon  of  marked  color  and  increased 
hairiness  at  "tips"  may  be  further  correlated  with 
the  fact  that  in  the  tip  of  the  tail,  particularly, 
seems  to  be  centred  or  focalized,  an  unusual  de- 


94  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

gree  of  nervous  force,  or  sensitiveness,  or  both, 
which  induces  an  extra  supply  of  nutrition  or 
stimulus  at  that  point  to  the  pigment  or  hair  cells, 
or  both,  —  for  it  must  be  noted  that  terminal  tufts 
of  hair  are  likely  to  be  strongly  colored,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  lion,  puma,  and  giraffe.  If  this  is  so, 
it  furnishes  an  explanation  of  the  tufted  condition 
of  the  tails  of  so  many  mice,  for  which  doubtless 
the  animal  has  a  use  of  its  own,  —  very  likely  as  a 
balancing  pole  or  weight;  and  so  natural  selection 


A  JERBOA,  SHOWING  TUFTED  TAIL. 

has  had  an  intimate  structural  basis  upon  which  to 
bring  about  modifications  in  each  species  beneficial 
to  it  "after  its  kind." 

How  much  outward  evidence  there  is  of  extreme 
nervousness  in  the  tip  of  the  tail  —  not  to  refer 
now  to  the  expressive  mobility  of  the  whole  mem- 
ber as  manifested  by  dogs  —  will  be  plain  to  any 
one  who  will  watch  a  collection  of  cats  in  a 
menagerie.  Even  when  they  are  in  repose,  the 
dark  end  of  the  tail  seems  to  be  involuntarily 
curling  and  twisting,  like  the  head  of  an  uneasy 


in  THE  SERVICE    OF   TAILS  95 

serpent;  and  are  they  aroused,  this  agitation  be- 
comes very  marked  indeed.  I  do  not  suppose  that 
the  puma  which  lies  in  wait  for  the  guanacos,  and 
attracts  them  by  his  lifted  tail  as  hunters  some- 
times toll  up  the  pronghorn  by  lying  on  their  faces 
and  kicking  up  their  heels,  thought  that  strategy 
out  and  put  it  into  deliberate  execution ;  but  the 
waving  of  the  tail  was  practically  involuntary,  and 
he  has  learned  to  adapt  his  hunting  to  a  method 
whose  success  we  can  explain,  but  which  he  prob- 
ably never  has  fathomed  or  sought  to  fathom,  for 
that  matter. 

Serpents  give  a  conspicuous  example  of  this 
nervous  condition  of  the  tail.  Every  snake,  when 
excited,  elevates  the  tip  of  it,  which  is  highly  sen- 
sitive to  touch,  and  vibrates  it  with  more  or  less 
rapidity.  This  is  most  marked  in  the  viperine 
species,  and  it  is  here  that  we  find  the  horny  tips, 
and  the  rattles  of  the  rattlesnake,  which  can  be 
agitated  with  such  extreme  rapidity  as  to  make 
merely  a  fan  of  light  —  the  eye  cannot  follow  the 
motion  —  and  can  be  sustained  for  hours.  There  is 
good  reason  to  believe  that  the  presence  of  the 
rattle  is  connected  with,  if  not  the  result  of,  this 
maximum  nervousness.  How  great  the  importance 
of  this  is  in  the  economy  of  this  kind  of  serpent, 
and  the  way  in  which  it  is  important,  I  have  en- 
deavored to  show  elsewhere.1  The  rattling  of  the 

1  "  Rattlesnakes  in  Fact  and  Fancy,"  —  Chapter  IX  of  my  book 
"  Country  Cousins,"  published  by  Harper  &  Brothers,  New  York,  1 884. 


96  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  in 

quills  of  the  tail  of  the  European  porcupine,  under 
circumstances  of  alarm,  is  another  interesting  fact 
discussed  in  Chapter  VII. 

But  the  large  part  the  tail  plays  in  the  expres- 
sion of  brute  emotions,  .from  furious  anger  to 
extravagant  joy,  is  familiar  to  most  persons  and 
need  not  be  dwelt  upon  here.  Mr.  Darwin  has 
treated  of  it  extensively  in  his  capital  book  "  The 
Expression  of  the  Emotions."  Foxes,  wolves, 
jackals,  et  id  omne  genus,  exhibit  excitement  and 
alarm  by  elevating  or  depressing  their  brushes, 
and  no  doubt  wag  them  in  welcome  to  their 
friends.  The  nervous  organization  and  moral  sen- 
sitiveness of  dogs  have  been  greatly  enhanced  by 
their  long  association  with  man,  and  domestic 
dogs  have  many  more  emotions  to  express,  no 
doubt,  than  their  wild,  or  semi-wild,  congeners. 
I  have  been  struck  by  the  lack  of  affectionate 
demonstrativeness  among  the  yelping  and  often 
savage  dogs  about  an  Indian  camp.  It  was  rare 
that  any  of  them  were  made  pets  of,  and  they  had 
never  been  led  to  show  that  welcome  and  grati- 
tude and  joy  which  are  so  plainly  expressed  by 
the  flexible  tails  of  the  terriers,  and  poodles,  and 
collies  of  our  houses. 


9s 


IV 

THE  HOUND  OF  THE  PLAINS 

A  PICTURE  of  the  Great  Plains  is  incomplete 
without  a  coyote  or  two  hurrying  furtively  through 
the  distance.  The  coyote  is  a  wolf,  about  two- 
thirds  the  size  of  the  well-known  European  species 
represented  in  North  America  by  the  big  gray  or 
timber-wolf.  He  has  a  long  lean  body,  legs  a 
trifle  short,  but  sinewy  and  active;  a  head  more 
fox-like  than  wolfish,  for  the  nose  is  long  and 
pointed ;  yellow  eyes  set  in  spectacle-frames  of 
black  eyelids;  and  hanging,  tan-trimmed  ears 
that  may  be  erected,  giving  a  well-merited  air  of 
alertness  to  their  wearer;  a  tail  (straight  as  a 
pointer's)  also  fox-like,  for  it  is  bushy  beyond  the 
ordinary  lupine  type ;  and  a  shaggy,  large-maned, 
wind-ruffled,  dust-gathering  coat  of  dingy  white, 
suffused  with  tawny  brown,  or  often  decidedly 
brindled. 

"  Blown  out  of  the  prairie  in  twilight  and  dew, 
Half  bold  and  half  timid,  yet  lazy  all  through, 

Lop-eared  and  large-jointed,  but  ever,  alway, 
A  thoroughly  vagabond  outcast  in  gray." 
99 


IOO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Such  is  the  coyote:  genus  loci  of  the  plains: 
an  Ishmaelite  of  the  desert :  consort  of  rattlesnake 
and  vulture  :  the  tyrant  of  his  inferiors  :  the  jackal 
of  the  puma :  once  a  hanger-on  upon  the  flanks 
of  the  buffalo  herds,  and  now  the  pest  of  the 
cattlemen  and  sheep  herders  :  the  pariah  of  his  own 
race,  and  despised  by  mankind. 

Withal,  he  maintains  himself,  and  his  tribe  in- 
creases. He  outstrips  animals  fleeter  than  him- 
self. He  foils  those  of  far  greater  strength  than 
his  own.  He  excels  all  rivals  in  cunning  and  in- 
telligence. He  furnishes  the  Indian  with  a  breed 
of  domestic  dogs,  and  makes  an  interesting  exhibit 
in  menageries  and  trick-shows. 

The  coyote  is  little  known  at  present  east  of  the 
bunch-grass  plains.  In  early  days,  however,  he 
was  common  enough  in  the  open  country  of  Ar- 
kansas, Missouri,  Illinois,  and  northward,  whence 
he  received  the  names  "prairie-wolf,"  "red"  and 
"barking"  wolf.  Threading  the  passes  regardless 
of  altitude,  he  wanders  among  all  the  foothills  of 
the  complicated  mountain-system  that  forms  the 
"crest  of  the  continent,"  and  dwells  too  plentifully 
in  the  Californian  valleys,  thriving  upon  what  he 
can  pilfer  from  the  ranch-yards  and  corrals,  and 
on  the  young  calves  or  lambs  that  he  is  now  and 
then  able  to  steal  from  the  flock.  Hence  he  there 
passes  his  life  continually  on  guard  against  guns, 
traps,  and  poison. 

In  the  United  States  and  the  Canadian  North- 


iv  THE  HOUND    OF  THE  PLAINS  IOI 

west,  then,  he  is  a  creature  of  the  open  country, 
leaving  high  mountains  and  forested  regions  to 
the  large  gray  "mountain"  or  "timber"  wolf 
(Cants  lupus).  Perhaps  this  is  less  his  choice  than 
his  necessity,  for  in  Mexico  and  Central  America 
he  seeks  his  food  more  often  in  forests  than  else- 
where, yet  keeps  his  characteristic  cunning  and 
cowardice,  becoming  there  the  wild  dog  of  the 
jungles,  as  in  the  north  he  is  the  hound  of  the 
plains.  It  is  that  tropical  region,  indeed,  which 
gives  us  his  name,  for  "  coyote "  comes  from  the 
pure  Nahuatl  word  cqyotl,  the  final  /  softened  into 
an  e.  This  ultimate  must  not  be  lost  in  the  pronun- 
ciation, which  is  coy-o'te,  in  three  syllables,  —  not 
ki-yot,  as  often  heard.  The  word  is  translated  in 
the  old  Nahuatl-Spanish  dictionaries  by  the  Span- 
ish adibe,  a  term  applied  to  the  African  jackals. 
It  is  also  employed  as  a  terminal  of  generic  signifi- 
cation for  all  similar  animals,  as  Dr.  Daniel  G. 
Brinton  has  explained.  Thus  tlal-coyotl,  from 
tlallit  earth,  and  coyotl,  is  a  big  burrowing  animal 
found  in  Mexico.  The  derivation  of  coyotl,  indeed, 
appears  to  be  from  the  root  coy-,  which  means  a 
hole,  alluding,  of  course,  to  the  burrowing  habits. 
I  have  met,  in  an  indigenous  Californian  language, 
a  very  similar  word  which  is  said  to  mean  "  hill- 
dog." 

When  this  wolf  cannot  find  a  natural  hollow  in 
the  earth  to  suit  him,  nor  evict  some  unhappy 
hare,  prairie-dog,  or  badger,  he  digs  for  himself  a 

AGRICULTURAL  LIBRARY 

(.;•  !      ,  SiTY  Of  CALIFORNIA 

ClTPUo  ;<LtEARCH  CENTER  AND 

AGKiOJLTU:V  L  EXPERIMENT  STATION 

RiVLRbiDE,  CALIFORNIA 


IO2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

dry  burrow,  or  prepares  a  den  among  loose  rocks. 
The  butte  districts  of  the  upper  Missouri  and 
lower  Colorado  valleys  are  therefore  his  strong- 
holds. There  the  decay  of  sandstone  strata,  and 
the  breakage  due  to  volcanic  eruptions  and  upheav- 
als, give  him  the  choice  of  a  large  number  of  cran- 
nies, while  the  desolation  and  remoteness  of  wide 
tracts  untenanted  by  men  still  afford  him  the  seclu- 
sion he  covets. 

In  such  seclusion  his  young  family  of  from  five 
to  eight  pups  is  brought  forth  during  the  latter 
part  of  spring,  the  date  varying  with  the  latitude. 
It  is  just  before  and  after  the  birth  of  the  puppies 
that  the  old  dog-coyotes  work  their  hardest  and 
the  most  systematically.  In  hunting  at  this  time 
our  wolf  adds  to  his  ordinary  pertinacity  and  zeal, 
the  sagacity  and  endurance  necessary  to  turn  his 
victims  and  drive  them  back  as  near  as  possible  to 
his  home,  knowing  that  otherwise  his  mate  and 
her  weaklings  will  be  unable  to  partake  of  the 
feast. 

A  remarkable  picture  of  this  was  given  some 
years  ago  in  an  English  magazine  (unfortunately 
I  have  lost  the  exact  reference)  by  a  traveller  who, 
in  one  of  the  best  "  animal  chapters  "  it  has  ever 
been  my  privilege  to  read;  detailed  a  chase  of  this 
kind  as  witnessed  by  him  in  the  grand  forests 
near  Lake  Nicaragua. 

The  traveller  and  his  Indian  hunter-companion 
had  discovered,  just  before  encamping  for  the 


iv  THE  HOUND   OF  THE  PLAINS  1 03 

night,  that  a  band  of  coyotes  was  on  the  hunt  in 
the  neighborhood ;  and  were  aroused  before  day- 
light next  morning  by  the  sudden  outburst  from 
their  clamorous  throats. 

"Their  musical  cry,  reckless  and  unguarded 
now,  resounded  from  hill  to  hill,  and  echoed  in  the 
deep  forest.  All  at  once  it  burst  upon  the  ear,  as 
if  some  messenger  from  the  front  had  just  arrived. 
Past  the  lower  ridge,  down  the  forest  to  our  left, 
swept  the  pack,  each  hound  seeming  to  rival  the 
other  in  noisy  glee.  Across  the  wind  they  gal- 
loped, and  the  rising  gusts  bore  to  us  that  cheery 
music  long  after  they  had  passed  far  away  through 
the  long  glades  and  green  savannahs." 

It  is  plain  that  an  Englishman  wrote  that  para- 
graph. No  one  but  a  fox-hunter  could  take  and 
communicate  such  enjoyment  from  a  chorus  of 
wolfish  notes. 

Expecting  their  return,  the  hunter  placed  himself 
at  sunrise  on  a  ridge  overlooking  Lake  Nicaragua, 
and  makes  us  envy  him  by  his  description  of  the 
scene,  "of  a  grandeur  and  variety  and  loveliness," 
he  exclaims,  "  not  to  be  surpassed  in  any  Eden 
of  the  world." 

"  At  length,"  he  continues,  "  I  fancied  the  breeze 
brought  a,  faint  clamor,  as  of  dogs  upon  the  scent. 
Five  minutes  more  and  a  tall  buck,  his  coat  all 
staring  and  wet,  his  tongue  hanging  low,  bounded 
across  a  rocky  stream  choked  with  big-leaved  plants, 
which  intersected  one  of  the  glades  within  my  sight. 


104 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


He  vanished  in  the  forest.  And  now  there  was 
no  possibility  of  mistake.  The  distant  cry  of  the 
pack  came  each  instant  louder  to  the  ear ;  at  top 
speed  they  swept  along  the  trail,  heads  up  high 
and  bushy  tails  waving.  They  followed  over  the 
stream  without  a  check,  and  disappeared  under  the 
arches  of  the  wood.  Presently  I  heard  the  crash- 
ing of  undergrowth  and  threw  myself  flat  upon  the 
ground.  Laboring  terribly,  the  buck  broke  cover 
at  the  foot  of  the  ridge,  and  ran  along  the  forest 
on  my  left.  The  coyotes'  triumphant  cry  rang 
louder  and  louder,  and  then  they,  too,  appeared, 
running  as  fresh  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  chase. 
They  dashed  along  in  a  compact  mass,  eight  or 
ten  couple  of  grown  dogs,  and  toiling  after  were 
three  or  four  heavy  bitches,  and  a  dozen  sturdy 
pups  of  all  ages:  these  had  plainly  joined  the 
chase  only  a  few  moments  before,  for  they  were 
playing  and  biting  one  another. 

"  I  rose  to  my  feet  and  watched  with  the  greatest 
interest,  for  it  seemed  certain  that  the  buck  must 
have  over-run  the  coyotes'  trail  and  his  own  scent. 
My  guess  was  correct.  On  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
a  big  old  dog  which  had  led  the  pack,  raised  his 
muzzle  and  howled.  Each  hound  stood  still,  and 
then  I  could  mark  that  some  of  the  finest  animals 
were  much  more  blown  than  the  others,  thus  show- 
ing that  the  game  had  been  turned  by  a  forced 
gallop.  The  leader  sniffed  about  for  a  moment, 
then  uttered  a  sharp  whine,  on  which  the  pack 


iv  THE  HOUND    OF   THE  PLAINS  1 05 

opened  like  a  fan,  while  the  whelps  sank  far  into 
the  rear.  Scarcely  had  the  last  dog  vanished  in 
the  undergrowth,  nose  and  tail  to  earth,  when  a 
short  challenge  rang  out.  There  was  a  moment's 
pause,  while  the  old  dogs  verified  the  fact,  I  sup- 
pose. A  bolder  cry  proclaimed  that  all  was  well, 
and  the  pups,  which  had  been  standing  still  as 
statues  in  their  place,  dashed  off  into  the  wood. 
Then  the  music  of  the  pack  broke  out  again ;  they 
swept  away  under  the  mysterious  trees  and  I  saw 
them  no  more. 

"  Certainly,"  exclaimed  the  narrator,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  this  brilliant  and  instructive  story,  "  no 
training  could  have  bettered  that  day's  run.  To 
drive  a  grown  buck  back  to  his  starting-place  ;  to 
send  on  a  portion  of  the  pack  to  that  point  where 
he  would  strive  to  break  cover ;  to  head  him  again 
and  again  into  the  covert,  where  his  speed  could 
not  be  exerted  to  the  full,  were  facts  which  might 
puzzle  all  the  best  dogs  in  England,  and  the  human 
intelligence  which  directs  them." 

His  game  and  its  getting  are  not  always  so  noble 
as  this,  however,  and  the  coyote  knows  well  the 
pinch  of  famine,  especially  in  winter.  It  has  been 
remarked  that  the  main  object  of  his  life  seems 
to  be  the  satisfying  of  a  hunger  which  is  always 
craving ;  and  to  this  aim  all  his  cunning,  impu- 
dence, and  audacity  are  mainly  directed.  Noth- 
ing comes  amiss.  Though  by  no  means  the 
swiftest-footed  quadruped  upon  the  plains,  he  runs 


IO6  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

down  the  deer,  pronghorn,  and  others,  tiring  them 
out  by  trickery  and  overcoming  them  by  numbers. 
The  buffalo  formerly  afforded  him  an  unfailing 
supply  in  the  way  of  carrion  and  fragments  left 
by  his  Brahmins, — the  timber-wolves, — who  stead- 
ily followed  the  herds  and  seized  upon  decrepit 
or  aged  stragglers,  and  upon  any  calves  that  they 
were  able  to  "cut  out"  and  pull  down.  In  such 
piracy  the  coyotes  themselves  engaged  whenever 
they  saw  an  opportunity,  although  it  tried  their 
highest  powers ;  and  success,  when  attained,  fol- 
lowed a  system  of  tireless  and  sanguinary  worry- 
ing. The  poor  bison  or  elk  upon  which  they 
concentrated  might  trample  and  gore  half  the 
pack,  but  the  rest  would  stay  by  him  and  finally 
nag  him  to  exhaustion  and  death. 

I  remember  once  reading  an  account  of  the  strat- 
egy by  which  a  large  stag  was  forced  to  succumb 
to  a  pack  that  had  driven  it  upon  the  ice  of  a 
frozen  lake,  as  they  had  deliberately  planned  to 
do.  Part  of  the  wolves  then  formed  a  circle  about 
the  pond,  within  which  the  slipping  and  exhausted 
deer  was  chased  round  and  round  by  patrols,  fre- 
quently relieved,  until,  fainting  with  fatigue  and 
loss  of  blood,  the  noble  animal  fell,  to  be  torn  to 
pieces  in  an  instant. 

Far  less  worthy  game  attracts  him,  however. 
In  California  and  New  Mexico  he  has  become  so 
destructive  to  the  sheep  that  incessant  war  is 
waged  upon  him  by  the  ranchmen.  In  Kansas 


iv  THE  HOUND   OF  THE  PLAINS  1 07 

and  Nebraska  he  is  accused  of  making  havoc 
among  the  domestic  poultry,  but  it  is  quite  likely 
he  gets  the  discredit  of  many  depredations  by 
foxes,  weasels,  and  skunks.  Similar  misdeeds 
were  justly  charged  against  him  by  the  farmers 
of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  when,  fifty  years  ago, 
the  prairies  of  those  States  were  the  frontier. 
Two  or  three  times  a  year,  therefore,  a  general 
holiday  would  be  declared,  and  a  wolf-hunt  organ- 
ized, in  which  volunteers  from  all  the  surrounding 
settlements  would  gather,  form  a  circle  miles  in 
diameter  around  the  spot  to  which  the  game  was 
to  be  driven,  and  then,  systematically  marching 
forward,  would  concentrate  until  they  had  cor- 
ralled the  animals  into  a  small  district.  Such 
battues  would  result  in  the  destruction  of  great 
numbers  not  only  of  prairie-wolves,  but  also  of 
lynxes,  polecats,  and  other  "vermin,"  and  free 
the  neighborhood  of  these  pests  for  that  season 
at  least,  besides  being  the  occasion  of  a  social 
merrymaking  rare  enough  to  be  keenly  enjoyed 
among  the  frontiersmen. 

Tactics  similar  to  those  in  coursing  a  stag  upon 
the  ice,  as  already  mentioned,  are  pursued  by  the 
coyote  when  he  sets  his  heart  upon  a  hare.  Alone, 
he  could  neither  overtake  nor  surprise  it.  Two 
wolves  assist  one  another,  therefore,  one  giving 
instant  chase  while  the  other  squats  upon  his 
haunches  and  watches  the  operation.  The  runner 
turns  the  hare  in  a  circle  that  presently  brings  it 


108  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

back  near  to  the  point  of  starting,  where  the  sec- 
ond wolf  is  ready  to  keep  puss  going  while  the 
first  rests.  Then  the  wolf  in  chase  bowls  the  hare 
over,  and  seeks  to  appropriate  the  whole  of  his 
not  over-big  carcass  before  the  resting  partner  can 
come  up  and  claim  his  share,  whereupon  a  row  is 
very  likely  to  ensue. 

To  capture  the  sage-hen,  grouse,  or  quail,  the 
coyote  roughly  quarters  the  ground,  somewhat  like 
a  trained  dog,  but  with  frequent  crouching  pauses, 
all  the  time  wending  his  way  toward  the  quarry. 
At  the  right  moment  he  will  drop  flat  in  the  grass 
and  creep  stealthily  forward,  as  a  cat  would  do, 
until  near  enough  to  make  a  fatal  spring.  The 
birds  do  not  seem  to  lie  to  him  as  they  will  to  a 
setter  or  pointer,  but  get  up  and  fly  the  instant 
they  discover  his  presence. 

In  fact,  nothing  edible  escapes  this  omnivorous 
prowler.  It  is  the  arch-enemy  of  such  small  deer 
as  prairie-dogs  and  gophers ;  and  one  reason  why 
the  rabbits  have  become  such  a  pest  in  central 
California  is  that  this  wolf  has  been  mercilessly 
killed  off  there. 

If  no  better  food  offers,  it  will  revel  in  carrion 
of  any  sort.  "  It  resorts  in  great  numbers  to  the 
vicinity  of  settlements  where  offal  is  sure  to  be 
found,  and  surrounds  the  hunter's  camp  at  night. 
It  is  well  known  to  follow  for  days  in  the  trail  of 
a  traveller's  party,  and  each  morning,  just  after 
camp  is  broken,  it  rushes  in  to  claim  whatever 


iv  THE  HOUND   OF  THE  PLAINS  I<X) 

eatable  refuse  may  have  been  left  behind.  But 
it  cannot  always  find  a  sufficiency  of  animal  food. 
Particularly  in  the  fall,  it  feeds  extensively  on 
'tunas,'  which  are  the  juicy,  soft,  scarlet  fruit  of 
various  species  of  prickly  pear  (opuntia);  and  in 
the  winter  upon  berries  of  various  sorts,  particu- 
larly those  of  the  juniper." 

Under  the  pangs  of  excessive  hunger  these 
small  wolves  are  compelled  to  a  furtive  boldness 
of  which  th*ey  are  incapable  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances. Thus  I  have  known  them  to  come 
repeatedly  within  pistol-range  of  my  camp-fire  in 
southern  Colorado,  and  hunters  tell  me  that  they 
have  been  known  to  pull,  or  try  to  pull,  the  boots 
or  the  leather  straps  of  a  saddle,  from  under  the 
head  of  a  slumbering  camper.  Sitgreaves  records 
that  when,  for  two  days  and  nights,  his  party  had 
kept  possession  of  some  solitary  springs  in  an  arid 
part  of  Arizona,  the  coyotes  became  so  desperate 
from  thirst  that  they  would  come  to  drink  while 
men  and  mules  were  at  the  spring. 

In  the  account  of  their  habits  in  Nicaragua,  to 
which  I  have  already  referred,  is  included  the 
opinion  of  the  Indian  who  was  accompanying  the 
writer,  and  who  evidently  held  this  wolf  in  higher 
respect  than  do  those  of  us  who  know  the  animal 
only  on  the  plains. 

"  You  see  [says  Manuelo]  they  are  not  like  other 
beasts,  afraid  of  fire.  .  .  .  They  cluster  round  it 
at  night,  and  the  larger  your  fire,  the  more  coyotes. 


HO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Ay !  there's  cause  for  fear  when  one  is  alone  and 
the  pack  is  out.  They're  worse  then  than  tigers 
or  the  cowardly  pumas,  though  there  are  few  who 
believe  it.  They  come  sneaking  up  through  the 
black  glades,  noiseless  and  silent,  and  they  squat 
on  their  haunches  and  their  eyes  shine  like  stars. 
They  wait  and  watch  and  will  not  be  driven  off. 
You  shoot  one,  but  others  come.  They  sit  like 
ghosts  —  like  pale  devils  —  round  your  fire.  Ah!  I 
tell  you,  seftor,  it  is  terrible  to  be  beset  by  coyotes ! 

"  Hour  by  hour  they  sit  there,  just  out  of  reach, 
in  a  circle  around  you.  It  is  a  nightmare !  From 
very  weariness  you  doze  off,  and,  waking  with  a 
horrid  start,  you  shout  to  see  how  near  the  devils 
have  crept.  As  you  spring  up,  they  slink  back 
again,  and  take  the  former  ring,  licking  their  foxy 
jaws,  but  making  no  sound.  And  you  —  you  rush 
at  them ;  and  they  glide  away  and  vanish  on  the 
instant  in  the  black  undergrowth.  But,  as  you 
return,  they  come  forth  again,  they  sit  down,  and 
stare  with  never  a  wink  in  their  green  eyes.  It  is 
terrible,  senor ! " 

As  a  rule,  on  our  western  plains,  they  are  cow- 
ardly to  the  last  degree,  and  trust  to  superior  num- 
bers and  well-laid  plans  to  effect  their  object.  I 
remember  at  a  place  where  I  once  encamped  for 
two  or  three  days  in  southwestern  Wyoming,  the 
rough  ledge  of  a  butte-face,  just  across  the  creek, 
was  the  home  of  a  family  of  these  wolves,  and  I 
often  saw  them,  —  the  mother  lying  at  the  mouth 


iv  THE  HOUND    OF  THE  PLAINS  III 

of  her  den,  and  the  four  whelps  romping  in  the 
sunshine.  The  father  of  this  family  kept  out  of 
sight,  but  the  second  day  I  caught  sight  of  him  in 
pursuit  of  a  doe  antelope  and  her  fawn. 

The  doe  was  backing  away  on  the  plain,  keep- 
ing the  little  one,  who  seemed  to  understand  its 
part  perfectly,  close  to  her  hind  legs.  Following 
her  closely  was  the  wolf,  frequently  making  a  dash 
to  the  right  or  left,  to  get  at  the  fawn,  but  each 
time  the  brave  little  mother,  whirling  alertly,  would 
present  to  him  her  lowered  head,  and  make  a  dash 
at  his  skull  with  her  sharp  fore  hoofs.  Thus  she 
retreated ;  but  I  fear  that  the  pursuer's  longer 
breath  and  varied  tactics  won  the  day  at  last.  It 
is  said  that  this  wolf  can  even  kill  the  rattlesnake, 
by  sheer  quickness  of  onslaught. 

A  prime  characteristic  of  the  coyote  is  his  aston- 
ishing voice,  which  differs  so  much  from  the  well- 
known  wolfish  howl  of  other  members  of  his  race 
as  to  have  suggested  the  specific  name  Cants 
latrans,  or  barking  wolf.  It  begins  with  a  series 
of  sharp  yelps  which  quickly  run  into  a  prolonged 
howl  that  may  strike  you  as  dismal  or  simply  in- 
teresting —  hardly  alarming  —  as  you  happen  to 
feel.  Often  these  yelps  and  howls  are  repeated 
with  such  rapidity  and  ventriloquistic  force,  as  to 
seem  to  fill  the  whole  horizon,  and  the  unsophisti- 
cated traveller  will  be  certain  a  large  pack  is  near 
him,  when  in  fact  the  whole  clamor  is  raised  by 
one,  or  at  most  two,  lean  and  hungry  barkers. 


H2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Remembering  these  astonishing  vocal  perform- 
ances, it  is  amusing  to  read  the  story  told  by  the 
Kaibabits  Indians,  of  northern  Arizona,  to  account 
for  the  diversity  of  languages,  for  what  animal 
could  better  figure  in  such  a  history  ? 

The  old  men  of  the  Kaibabits  say,  the  grand- 
mother goddess  of  all  brought  up  out  of  the  sea  a 
sack,  which  she  gave  to  the  Cin-au'-av  brothers,  — 
great  wolf-gods.  This  sack  contained  the  whole 
of  mankind,  and  the  brothers  were  bidden  to  carry 
it  from  the  shores  of  the  sea  to  the  Kaibab  Plateau, 
and  by  no  means  to  open  the  package  on  the  way 
lest,  as  with  Pandora's  box,  untold  evils  should  be 
turned  loose.  But,  overcome  by  curiosity,  the 
younger  Cin-au'-av  untied  the  sack's  mouth,  when 
the  majority  of  people  swarmed  out.  The  elder 
Cin-au'-av  hastened  to  close  it  again  and  carry  it 
to  the  Kaibab  Plateau,  where  those  who  had  re- 
mained in  the  bag  found  a  beautiful  home.  Those 
who  had  escaped  were  scattered,  and  became 
Navahos,  Mokis,  Dakotas,  white  men,  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  outside  world  —  poor  sorry  fragments 
of  humanity  without  the  original  language  of  the 
gods ;  and  it  was  all  the  fault  of  that  careless  coy- 
ote, Cin-au'-av. 

The  quick  wits  and  inquiring  mind  of  the  prairie- 
wolf  serve  him  not  only  in  chasing,  but  in  saving 
himself  from  being  chased.  A  new  enemy  has 
lately  arisen,  however,  that  puts  him  on  his  mettle. 
This  is  the  practice  of  chasing  him  with  hounds 


iv  THE  HOUND    OF  THE  PLAINS  113 

after  the  manner  of  fox-hunting  which  is  largely 
pursued  now  as  a  sport  at  army  posts  in  the  West, 
and  here  and  there  by  townspeople  and  ranchmen. 
It  began,  I  think,  and  has  been  most  diligently 
developed  among  the  colonists  in  the  interior  of 
British  Columbia,  where  a  pack  of  hounds,  re- 
cruited largely  from  the  famous  Badminton  Ken- 
nels, in  England,  has  long  been  maintained  at 
Ashcroft,  in  the  Fraser  valley. 

The  hounds  take  to  this  new  sport  readily,  yet 
the  wily  and  swift-footed  wolf  is  often  able  to  keep 
out  of  their  way,  and  save  his  brush  in  some  rocky 
retreat,  after  leading  the  horsemen  a  run  which 
sets  every  nerve  a  tingling. 

Next  to  the  wolverine,  the  prairie-wolf  is,  per- 
haps, the  wariest  of  the  animals  —  not  excepting 
the  fox  —  against  which  the  trapper  pits  himself. 
To  poisoned  meat  he  falls  a  victim  through  his 
gluttony,  and  in  this  way  the  ranchmen  destroy 
great  numbers  annually ;  but  he  is  rarely  trapped. 
The  old  writer  Say  tells,  with  a  touch  of  glee,  how 
his  friend  Titian  Peale,  who  was  a  naturalist  as 
well  as  a  painter,  was  baffled  in  trying  to  catch  a 
live  coyote  for  his  father's  famous  Museum  —  one 
of  the  sights  of  old  Philadelphia. 

Peale's  first  experiment  was  with  a  "  figure-four," 
and  came  to  nought  because  a  wolf  burrowed  under 
the  floor  and  pulled  the  bait  down  between  the 
planks.  "This  procedure,"  sagely  remarks  Mr. 
Say,  "would  seem  to  be  the  result  of  a  faculty 


114  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

beyond  mere  instinct."  A  cage  was  next  con- 
structed, into  which  the  wolves  might  enter,  but 
out  of  which  they  could  not  depart.  The  coyotes 
came,  admired  the  arrangement,  sang  doleful 
lamentations  over  the  bait,  which  they  could  see 
and  smell  but  could  not  taste,  and  went  away 
again. 

Disappointed  here,  Mr.  Peale  next  began  a  series 
of  experiments  with  steel  traps,  one  of  which,  pro- 
fusely baited,  was  concealed  among  the  leaves. 
Plenty  of  tracks  alone  rewarded  this  effort.  "You 
can't  live  on  tracks "  is  one  of  the  aphorisms  of 
the  Plains.  Then  a  seductive  bait  was  suspended 
above  the  trap  in  the  midst  of  several  other  pieces ; 
but  the  expected  victims,  stepping  circumspectly, 
carried  off  all  the  meat  except  the  one  piece  it  was 
intended  they  should  take.  Baits  were  next  hung 
up  as  before,  the  trap  was  buried  in  leaves  and 
these  were  burned,  so  that  the  trap,  scorched  free 
from  any  odor  of  human  hands,  lay  covered  with 
ashes;  still  the  one  bait  over  the  steel  jaws  was 
avoided,  and  no  sinewy  foot  was  pinched.  Finally 
a  wicked  arrangement  of  innocent-looking  logs  set 
on  a  trigger  was  made  to  fall  upon  the  wolf  and 
destroy  him.  Peale  got  his  "specimen,"  but  it 
was  only  by  brute  force  :  the  coyote  had  been  a 
match  for  him  in  brains. 

The  remarkable  craftiness  of  this  animal,  to- 
gether with  its  secretive  disposition,  nocturnal 
prowling,  and  power  of  annoyance,  have  caused 


iv  THE  HOUND    OF  THE  PLAINS  11$ 

the  coyote  to  figure  prominently  in  the  myths  and 
religious  histories  of  nearly  all  the  native  races  of 
the  far  west,  especially  southward ;  and  a  collection 
of  these  stories  from  the  writings  of  Powell,  Powers, 
Bandelier,  Gushing,  Curtin  and  others  would  sug- 
gest to  every  reader  the  Reynard  of  European  folk- 
lore, not  to  speak  of  other  interesting  parallels. 

The  skins  of  these  wolves  are  not  as  highly 
valued  as  those  of  the  bigger  gray  wolf,  yet 
formerly  they  entered  largely  into  the  shipments 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  for  whom  they 
were  "  cased,"  or  stripped  off  inside  out,  as  is 
done  with  smaller  fur-bearers,  such  as  the  beaver 
and  ermine.  At  present  they  are  in  demand  to 
some  extent  for  making  sleigh-robes,  rugs,  and  so 
forth,  and  to  a  less  degree  for  mantles  and  boas, 
but  can  scarcely  be  accounted  among  the  com- 
mercial furs. 

The  striking  resemblance  between  the  coyote 
and  the  majority  of  the  snappish  curs  thronging 
in  the  camps  of  the  redskins  long  ago  attracted 
attention,  and  with  good  reason,  for  these  dogs 
are  descended  from  tamed  wolves  and  foxes  of 
one  kind  or  another,  and  the  stock  was,  and  is  yet, 
constantly  replenished  by  their  masters  through 
mixture  with  the  wild  wolves. 

As  a  pet  the  coyote  is  not  in  great  favor.  He 
will,  indeed,  stay  at  home,  and  will  consent  to 
friendly,  and  even  affectionate,  terms  with  his 
owner,  but  he  seems  to  have  not  a  particle  of 


Il6  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  iv 

gratitude,  nor  any  of  that  responsive  attachment 
that  makes  the  well-bred  dog  so  lovable  as  a  friend. 

Moreover,  in  spite  of  his  natural  subtlety  and 
shrewdness,  he  shows  little  aptitude  for  learning 
the  ordinary  accomplishments  of  dogs,  and  so  fails 
to  sustain  an  interest  in  him  after  the  novelty 
of  first  acquaintance  passes  off.  Perhaps  this 
seeming  inaptitude  is  really  unwillingness,  since 
he  may  easily  regard  the  things  sought  to  be  taught 
him  as  beneath  his  serious  attention.  If  so,  the 
fact  that  he  is  occasionally  seen  as  one  of  the 
showman's  performing  animals  is  all  the  more 
noticeable;  since  unquestionably  he  could  say  to 
the  audience, — 

"  I  could  show  you  a  trick  worth  two  o'  that." 

NOTE.  —  Recently  the  prairie  wolves,  formerly  regarded  as 
a  single  species  (Cam's  latrans)^  have  been  re-classified  in 
several  species  and  subspecies,  the  names  and  distinctions  of 
which  may  be  learned  from  Dr.  D.  G.  Elliot's  "  Synopsis  of 
Mammals,"  —  a  storehouse  of  technical  descriptions  of  North 
American  mammals.  The  publications  of  the  United  States 
Department  of  Agriculture,  since  1899,  have  contained  much 
information  as  to  the  habits  of  coyotes,  especially  Bailey's 
"  Biological  Survey  of  Texas,"  and  Lantz's  "  Coyotes  in  their 
Economic  Relations."  The  hunting  of  these  small  wolves  has 
been  the  subject  of  many  recent  essays,  —  none  better  than  a 
chapter  in  Roosevelt's  "  Pastimes  of  an  American  Hunter." 
A  large  collection  of  Indian  myths  and  legends  in  which  this 
animal  is  the  hero  may  be  studied  in  Power's  "  Indians  of 
California,"  and  in  Powell's  "  Exploration  of  the  Colorado 
River,"  both  published  by  the  Government. 


u8 


V 

THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN 

MANY  an  animal  lives  beside  us,  of  which  we 
are  told  by  those  genial  vagabonds,  the  hunters, 
or  whose  traces  constantly  present  themselves, 
but  of  which  we  rarely  catch  even  a  glimpse. 
These  creatures  continue  to  pursue  their  own 
secluded  manner  of  living,  while  men  increase 
around  them,  and  civilization  alters  their  environ- 
ment, accommodating  themselves  as  well  as  they 
can  to  human  interference  with  their  habits  and 
subsistence,  and  surviving  or  even  profiting  by  the 
changes,  but  keeping  aloof  from  the  eyes  of  men. 

I  have  been  using  the  word  "  animals  "  here  in 
its  special  popular  sense  of  designating  the  four- 
footed,  hairy  creatures  technically  termed  Mam- 
mals ;  and  it  is  a  curious  and  notable  lack  in  our 
English  speech  that  we  have  no  vernacular  word 
which  exactly  stands  for  this  most  definite  and 
familiar  of  zoological  groups  :  "  quadruped  "  won't 
do,  where  precision  is  desirable,  since  many  rep- 
tiles, as  lizards  and  turtles,  have  four  feet ;  and  I 
see  no  help  for  it  but  to  popularize  the  word 
"mammal,"  which  is  not  a  very  "hard"  one  to 
learn. 

119 


12O  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

The  birds,  or  at  any  rate  many  of  them,  seem 
to  welcome  the  coming  of  mankind,  and  to  make 
friends  with  him  at  once,  and  occasionally  to  fol- 
low him  into  wider  countries.  Thus  the  swift,  the 
barn-swallow,  and  the  eave-swallow  have  aban- 
doned in  the  east  their  habits  of  nesting  in  hol- 
low trees  and  upon  rocky  cliffs  or  clay-banks,  and 
now  make  their  homes  altogether  in  the  chimneys 
of  houses  and  under  the  eaves  and  roofs  of  barns 
and  outhouses.  The  phoebe-bird  so  generally 
chooses  the  exposed  timbers  of  bridges  that  it  is 
more  widely  known  as  the  bridge-pewee  than  by 
any  other  name ;  yet  it  as  often  places  its  adobe 
cabin  on  the  beam  of  a  shed  or  porch,  as  if  seek- 
ing human  company.  The  grouse,  quail,  crow, 
and  some  other  birds  have  moved  westward  with 
the  advancing  migration  of  agriculture ;  and  every- 
where, no  doubt,  the  total  of  singing-birds  has 
been  greatly  increased  by  the  civilizing  of  the 
land.  Thus  we  make  daily  observation  of  most 
of  the  birds,  and  only  need  to  attend  to  them  more 
minutely  to  become  aware  of  the  presence  of  those 
kinds  more  rare  or  occasional. 

With  the  mammals  the  case  is  different.  Almost 
the  only  kinds,  not  voluntarily  domesticated,  that 
have  attached  themselves  to  mankind,  are  the  rats 
and  mice  —  cosmopolitan  pests,  presumably  of 
Asiatic  origin,  which  have  now  spread  all  over 
the  world.  Many  beasts,  as  the  big  game  and 
fiercer  carnivores,  have  almost  or  quite  disappeared 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  121 

from  the  more  completely  civilized  regions,  for 
one  reason  or  another ;  while  others,  as  the  hares 
and  squirrels,  because  of  their  prolificacy  and  com- 
parative worthlessness,  can  maintain  themselves 
everywhere,  despite  their  conspicuous  manner 
of  life.  The  muskrat  is  a  singular  example  of 
this  faculty,  and  it  has  probably  augmented  rather 
than  diminished  in  numbers  in  the  United  States 
since  the  civilization  of  the  land,  in  the  face  of 
steady  persecution  on  account  of  its  value  on  the 
one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  because  it  is  harmful 
to  certain  human  enterprises. 

But  besides  these  classes  there  is  a  group  of 
mammals,  fellow-denizens  with  us  of  the  cultivated 
parts  of  the  country,  that  persist,  and  in  some 
cases  increase,  yet  escape  the  notice  of  all  but  a 
few  persons,  and  continue  to  live  their  own  lives 
regardless  of  us  and  our  operations. 

What  do  the  most  of  us  see  or  know,  for  ex- 
ample, of  the  wild  mice,  half  a  dozen  species  of 
which  are  numerous  everywhere  in  our  woods 
and  fields?  Yet  thousands  of  these  small  and 
active  creatures, — the  lovely  long-tailed  red-and- 
white  deer  or  vesper  mice,  the  various  short-tailed 
brown  meadow-mice  or  voles,  the  far-leaping, 
kangaroo-like  jumping-mouse  (genus  Zapus),  and 
several  others  allied  to  them,  —  inhabit  all  our 
forests,  prairies,  fields,  and  gardens.  They  are 
beyond  counting,  and  form  the  principal  game 
of  a  large  number  of  wild  animals,  —  mammals, 


122  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

birds,  and  reptiles,  without  whose  assistance  we 
should  be  unable  to  endure  their  hordes,  —  while 
the  results  of  their  pernicious  activity  are  con- 
stantly apparent.  Read  this  extract  from  Kenni- 
cott's  masterly  but  nearly  forgotten  papers  on  the 
mammals  of  Illinois,  and  note  how  important  a 
factor  in  the  relations  of  men  and  animals  are 
these  unseen  foes :  he  is  speaking  more  particu- 
larly of  the  true  meadow-mice  of  the  genus  Arvi- 
cola,  but  we  may  take  his  statements  as  good  for 
the  whole  class. 

"The  food  and  general  habits  of  the  different 
species  are  much  alike,  though  some  prefer  high, 
and  others  wet  ground ;  while  others  inhabit  the 
woods,  prairies,  etc.  All  the  species  burrow,  and 
none  climb  trees.  The  common  food  of  those  I 
have  observed  is  the  grasses  and  other  herbaceous 
plants,  their  seeds  and  roots,  and  the  seeds  and 
acorns,  as  well  as  the  bark,  of  trees  in  the  woods, 
with  grain  and  vegetables,  when  inhabiting  culti- 
vated fields.  Some  are  omnivorous,  as  has  been 
observed  in  their  habits  while  in  captivity.  To 
what  extent  they  eat  animal  food  when  at  liberty, 
I  am  unable  to  say,  though  it  is  probable  that 
they  consume  some  insects  in  summer ;  and  they 
may  even  obtain  a  few,  with  the  pupae  and  eggs 
of  more,  concealed  in  the  grass  traversed  by  them 
in  winter.  Some  kinds,  at  least,  lay  up  stores  of 
food  for  winter.  All  are  active  at  this  time,  mov- 
ing about  in  the  coldest  weather,  and  never  hiber- 
nate like  marmots. 

"One  characteristic,  certainly  possessed  by  all 
the  species  in  common,  is  their  ability  to  destroy 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  123 

the  products  of  the  farm.  I  know  of  no  mam- 
mals more  injurious  to  the  farmers  in  northern 
Illinois  than  these  seemingly  insignificant  meadow- 
mice.  Few,  if  any,  escape  their  depredations, 
though  the  full  amount  of  damage  done  by  them 
is  but  little  known ;  and  yet  they  are  usually 
thought  unworthy  of  consideration.  Such  of  our 
farmers  as  cut  their  corn  and  leave  it  standing 
for  some  time  in  the  field,  as  is  usually  done  here, 
will  find,  upon  examination,  that  in  many,  if  not 
every  one,  of  the  shocks  there  may  be  found  one 
or  more  pair  of  meadow-mice,  which  have  dug 
for  themselves  burrows  in  the  ground  beneath, 
and  have  carried  thither  a  store  of  corn ;  while 
in  these,  or  ensconced  in  the  protecting  corn- 
stalks above,  they  have  built  themselves  a  nest, 
in  which  they  can  lead  a  very  comfortable  sort 
of  life,  regaling  themselves,  when  hungry,  upon 
the  corn.  Now  a  pair  of  mice  will  not,  it  is  true, 
eat  enough  corn  to  alarm  a  farmer  for  the  safety 
of  his  crop;  but  let  any  one  examine  a  large 
field  of  corn,  thus  cut  and  left  standing  on  the 
ground  a  month  or  two,  where  these  mice  abound, 
and  carefully  estimate  the  amount  of  corn  de- 
stroyed in  each  shock,  observing  that  which  has 
been  buried  in  the  burrow,  and  then  multiply 
that  by  the  number  of  shocks  inhabited  by  these 
pests,  and  it  will  often  be  found  that  they  have 
really  consumed  or  destroyed  a  large  amount.  In 
meadows  they  do  much  injury  by  devouring  the 
roots  and  stems  of  Timothy,  clover,  and  other 
plants  used  for  hay.  This  mischief,  however,  is 
seldom  noticed  by  farmers ;  or,  if  it  is  at  all,  in 
districts  where  moles  abound,  all  the  blame  is 
laid  upon  them,  as,  indeed,  is  very  much  of  the 


124 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


damage  done  by  meadow-mice  wherever  the  two 
exist  together.  They  also  do  great  mischief  by 
killing  young  plants  in  grain-fields;  and,  soon 
after  the  seed  is  sown,  they  destroy  many  of  the 
grains,  little  stores  of  which  may  be  found  col- 
lected in  shallow  excavations.  These  are  often 
not  eaten,  and,  germinating,  astonish  and  scandal- 
ize the  farmer  by  the  appearance  of  a  thick  clump 
of  plants  where  he  thought  he  had  sown  his  seed 
quite  uniformly.  They  also  dig  up  grain  that  has 
just  sprouted ;  and,  by  examining  fields  of  young 
wheat,  oats,  etc.,  spots  will  be  seen  where  they 
have  dug  dov/n,  guided  by  the  growing  blades, 
and  taken  off  the  grain.  In  a  nursery,  where 
apple-seeds  were  planted  in  autumn,  I  have  ob- 
served that,  during  fall  and  spring,  so  many  of 
the  seeds  were  dug  up  by  these  mice  as  to  leave 
long  gaps  in  the  rows  of  seedlings,  the  empty 
shells  of  the  seeds  being  found  lying  about  the 
rows  from  which  they  had  been  taken.  They 
congregate  in  stacks  of  grain  and  hay,  —  some- 
times in  exceedingly  great  numbers,  —  destroying 
all  the  lower  parts  by  cutting  galleries  through 
them  in  every  direction. 

"The  greatest  mischief  done  by  meadow-mice 
is  the  gnawing  of  bark  from  fruit-trees.  The 
complaints  are  constant  and  grievous  throughout 
the  Northern  States  of  the  destruction  of  orchard 
and  nursery  trees  by  the  various  species  of  arvi- 
colae.  The  entire  damage  done  by  them  in  this 
way  may  be  estimated,  perhaps,  at  millions  of 
dollars.  .  .  .  This  is  especially  the  case  at  the 
West,  where  no  care  is  taken  to  protect  the  trees 
against  them,  —  careless  orchardists  allowing  grass 
to  grow  about  the  roots  of  their  fruit-trees,  and 


CHAP.V  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  I2/ 

thus  kindly  furnishing  the  arvicolae  with  excellent 
nesting-places  in  winter,  and  rendering  the  trees 
doubly  liable  to  be  girdled.  In  the  nurseries  in 
northern  Illinois,  I  have  seen  whole  rows  of 
young  apple-trees  stripped  of  their  bark  for  a 
foot  or  two  above  the  ground.  Thousands  of 
fruit-trees,  as  well  as  evergreens  and  other  orna- 
mental trees  and  shrubs,  are  at  times  thus  killed 
in  a  nursery  in  one  winter.  .  .  .  Many  times  in 
spring,  when  a  florist  uncovers  some  choice  plant 
he  has  carefully  protected  during  the  winter  by 
straw,  etc.,  he  is  grieved  and  chagrined  to  find, 
instead  of  a  fine  Dianthus,  or  half-hardy  rose, 
two  nimble,  black-eyed  arvicolae,  which  have 
found  good  winter  quarters  in  the  shelter  pro- 
vided for  the  plant  that  has  furnished  them  food. 
No  little  injury  do  they  to  vegetables  of  all  kinds, 
destroying  the  young  plants  of  peas,  beans,  cab- 
bages, etc.,  as  well  as  digging  up  seeds  of  all 
sorts,  and  gnawing  potatoes,  beets,  and  other  roots." 

How  often  do  we  see  these  creatures,  so  numer- 
ous and  ubiquitous  ?  How  unexpected  would  be 
an  accidental  discovery  of  their  presence,  were  it 
not  for  their  too  familiar  assaults  upon  our  grain- 
fields,  granaries,  and  gardens  ?  And  how  clever 
they  are  in  their  mischief  ! 

Then  there  are  the  shrews.1  Two  or  three 
kinds  of  these  tiniest  of  quadrupeds,  looking  like 
miniature  mice,  until  you  examine  them,  —  note 

1  See  Plate  of  Shrews,  opposite :  Blarina  brevicauda,  —  com- 
mon short-tailed  shrew  of  the  eastern  United  States.  Sorex 
cooperi,  —  an  eastern  long-tailed  shrew;  the  smallest  of  known 
mammals.  Sorex  vagrans,  —  a  common  Western  long-tailed  shrew. 
Urotrichus  gibbsi,  —  the  curious  shrew-mole  of  the  Pacific  coast. 


128  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  v 

the  prolonged  flexible  snout  and  delicate  rows  of 
needle-pointed  teeth,  made  to  seize,  hold,  and 
crush  the  hard,  slippery  bodies  of  insects,  —  inhabit 
by  thousands  every  part  of  the  country,  and  are 
active  at  all  seasons  of  the  year ;  yet  only  now  and 
then  is  one  seen,  and  that  one  is  usually  dead. 
Mainly  nocturnal  in  their  work,  and  sneaking  from 
point  to  point  under  leaves  and  through  runways 
concealed  by  the  arching  grasses,  they  elude  our 
notice  while  existing  in  multitudes  about  our  feet. 
Of  the  moles  we  seem  to  know  somewhat  more, 
for  the  heaved-up  lines  of  turf  that  mark  their  sub- 
terranean lines  of  research  for  bugs  and  worms, 
and  the  hillocks  of  loose  earth,  showing  where,  at 
intervals,  they  have  cast  out  the  excavated  soil, 
are  familiar  to  all  dwellers  outside  of  large  cities. 
Nevertheless,  so  infrequently  is  the  miner  himself 
met  with,  that  many  a  person  who  has  grumbled 
all  his  life  at  the  depredations  on  his  lawn,  would 
not  recognize  the  culprit  when  brought  before 
him,  and  certainly  could  not  tell  whether  it  were 
the  common  garden-mole,  or  the  star-nosed  one, 
or  Brewer's  hairy-tailed  mole.1  These  animals,  it 

1  See  Plate  of  Common  Moles,  opposite  :  i.  The  eastern  Garden- 
Mole  (Scalops  aquaticus) ;  a,  head,  side  view;  b,  palm  of  fore-foot; 
f,  semi-naked  tail.  2.  The  Star-nosed  Mole  (  Condylura  cristata) ; 
a,  head,  under  side;  b,  palm;  c,  tail;  d,  "star"  of  the  muzzle, 
front  view.  3.  The  California  Shrew-mole  (Urotrichus  gibbsi); 
a,  head,  under  side;  b,  head,  side  view  (see  also  Plate  of  Shrews; 
e,  palm.  4.  The  Hairy-tailed,  or  Brewer's  Mole  (Scafanus 
breweri};  a,  muzzle,  side  view;  b,  tail;  c,  palm. 


CHAP,  v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  131 

is  true,  are  mainly  nocturnal,  but  they  often  come 
to  the  surface  and  wander  about,  even  on  the 
snow,  as  also  do  the  shrews.  These  open-air  excur- 
sions are  made  usually  in  the  dusk  of  early  dawn  and 
late  evening,  or  during  rains ;  but  they  also  have 
the  curious  custom  of  coming  out  for  a  saunter 
precisely  at  noon,  so  that  it  is  surprising  that  they 
are  not  more  often  seen. 

The  moles  are  blind,  having  only  rudimentary 
eyes,  but  their  ears  and  sense  of  touch  are  extremely 
acute,  enabling  them  to  detect  not  only  the  sound, 
but  the  jar  of  approaching  footsteps,  and  hasten 
into  their  shelters.  The  mole  is  frequently  re- 
vealed to  us  for  the  first  time  by  finding  one  lying 
dead  on  the  turf.  There  will  be  no  sign  of  vio- 
lence about  its  body,  nor  of  disease;  and  it  is 
lying  out  on  the  grass  in  the  daylight,  careless  of 
the  exposure  that  all  its  life  long  had  been  its 
dread.  What  killed  it?  Does  it  feel  death  ap- 
proaching and  creep  out  of  its  cellar  to  end  its  days 
under  the  blue  sky  and  in  the  sweet  air  ?  Do  the 
other  moles,  foreseeing  its  fate,  drive  it  forth  ?  I 
have  no  answer ;  but  the  explanation  is  probably 
far  more  prosaic  than  that.  Shrews,  closely  allied 
to  the  moles,  and  among  the  hardiest  of  animals, 
dwelling  upon  almost  arctic  mountain  tops,  and 
braving  the  severest  winter  weather,  often  perish 
in  an  equally  mysterious  manner.  I  have  more 
than  once  had  one  die  in  a  short  time  after  capt- 
ure, although  it  had  not  been  hurt  in  the  slightest 


!32  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHA?. 

degree,  and  everything  had  been  done  to  make  it 
comfortable.  Was  this  death  due  to  nervous 
alarm  ?  There  seems  no  other  explanation  of  it. 

The  deer,  wild-cat,  bear,  raccoon,  mink,  weasel, 
skunk,  muskrat,  porcupine,  beaver  (but  how  rare 
is  the  sight  of  a  living  beaver,  even  after  one  has 
found  its  tenanted  dams !)  and  the  great  company 
of  squirrels,  gophers,  and  the  like,  we  know  pretty 
well,  and  feel  their  presence  in  our  woods,  waters, 
and  prairies ;  but  who  has  seen,  or  ever  hopes  to 
see,  an  otter,  although  these  fine  animals  still  se- 
crete themselves  in  all  parts  of  the  Union  ?  Tho- 
reau  relates  that  when  he  spoke  of  this  animal  to 
the  oldest  doctor  in  Concord,  who  should  be,  he 
thought,  ex  officio,  a  naturalist,  the  worthy  physi- 
cian was  greatly  surprised  at  the  suggestion  that 
it  lived  in  Massachusetts,  although  he  recalled 
that  the  Pilgrims  sent  home  a  great  number  of 
otter  skins,  among  other  peltries,  in  the  first  ship 
that  returned  to  England.  Then  Thoreau  pro- 
ceeded to  inform  him  of  what  he  had  seen  that 
day,  —  the  6th  of  December,  1856,  at  2  P.M.,  as 
recorded  in  his  diary : 

"To  Hubbard's  Bridge  and  Holden  Swamp, 
and  up  river  on  ice.  .  .  .  Just  this  side  of  Bittern 
Cliff,  I  see  the  very  remarkable  track  of  an  otter, 
made  undoubtedly  December  3d,  when  the  snow- 
ice  was  mere  slush.  It  had  come  up  through  a 
hole  (now  black  ice)  by  the  stem  of  a  button-bush, 
and  apparently  pushed  its  way  through  the  slush, 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  133 

as  through  snow  on  land,  leaving  a  track  eight 
.inches  wide,  more  or  less,  with  the  now  frozen 
snow  shoved  up  two  inches  above  the  general 
level  on  each  side.  ...  I  saw  where  these  creat- 
ures had  been  playing,  sliding  or  fishing,  appar- 
ently to-day,  on  the  snow-covered  rocks,  on  which 
for  a  rod  upwards,  and  as  much  in  width,  the  snow 
was  trodden  and  worn  quite  smooth,  as  if  twenty 
had  trodden  and  slid  there  for  several  hours. 
Their  droppings  are  a  mass  of  fishes'  scales  and 
bones,  loose,  scaly,  black  masses.  .  .  .  The  river 
was  all  tracked  up  with  otters  from  Bittern  Cliff 
upward.  Sometimes  one  had  trailed  his  tail  edge- 
wise, making  a  mark  like  the  tail  of  a  deer-mouse ; 
sometimes  they  were  moving  fast,  and  there  was 
an  interval  of  five  feet  between  the  tracks.  .  .  . 
These  very  conspicuous  tracks  generally  com- 
menced and  terminated  at  some  button-bush  or 
willow  where  black  ice  now  marked  the  hole  of 
that  date.  ...  In  many  places  the  otters  ap- 
peared to  have  gone  floundering  along  in  the 
slushy  ice  and  water." 

But  even  Thoreau  did  not  see  the  animal  itself, 
then  nor  at  any  other  time,  though  once  one 
crawled  past  the  door  of  his  Walden  house  in  the 
night  and  set  him  a-thinking  —  but  it  didn't  need 
a  noble  otter  to  do  that ! 

Dr.  Charles  Abbott  saw  them  several  times, 
twenty  or  thirty  years  ago,  in  the  Delaware  and 
its  tributaries  near  Trenton;  Merriam  mentions 


134 


WILD  NEIGHBORS 


encountering  three  at  once  in  the  Adirondacks,  and 
Audubon  and  Bachman  had  one  or  two  personal  in- 
terviews in  the  South ;  but  these  were  naturalists  and 
trappers  who  made  it  their  business  to  seek  and 
find  the  sly  creature  in  its  haunts,  yet  succeeded 
rather  by  perseverance  and  good  luck  than  by 
foresight.  JVfany  have  tried  equally  hard,  perhaps, 
and  have  failed. 

I  know  where  one  lives,  in  a  little  river  not  far 
from  the  city  of  New  York ;  but  I  shall  by  no 
means  tell  you  the  river's  name,  for  he  must  not 
be  disturbed.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  think 
that  this  stream,  which  for  a  large  part  of  its 
course  flows  between  cultivated  fields,  is  spanned 
by  highways  and  bound  like  Ixion  to  the  miller's 
wheel,  still  harbors  an  animal  so  truly  wild  and 
aboriginal.  It  is  a  picturesque  and  poetic  relic  of 
the  prehistoric  wilderness,  and  a  romantic  reminder 
of  the  free,  primitive,  savage  state  of  things,  as 
refreshing  to  the  imagination  as  the  pungent  odor 
of  spruce-leaves  in  a  winter  drawing-room. 

A  more  remarkable  example,  perhaps,  of  an 
animal  that  secretes  itself  well  from  observation 
while  numerous  throughout  its  range  is  found  in 
the  badger.  Although  it  is  comparatively  large, 
predatory,  and  common,  it  spends  most  of  its  time 
underground,  rarely  comes  abroad  except  during 
the  hours  of  darkness,  and  makes  haste  to  hide 
itself  the  moment  it  detects  the  approach  of  any 
human  being.  The  sight  of  a  living  badger  is 


V  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  135 

therefore  an  uncommon  accident,  even  where  the 
species  abounds  and  its  burrows  may  be  seen  in 
all  directions ;  and  the  animal  disappears  rapidly 
before  the  advance  of  any  considerable  settlement 
in  its  territory.  Audubon  and  Bachman  imply 
that  its  habitat  was  always  limited  by  the  eastern 
extent  of  the  Great  Plains,  but  the  fact  is  that 
these  animals  formerly  were  spread  as  far  east  as 
the  open  country  extended,  dwelling  upon  all  the 
prairies  of  southwestern  Michigan,  northern  Ohio, 
Indiana,  Illinois,  Wisconsin  (which  has  been  called 
the  Badger  State  since  its  early  days),  Minnesota, 
Iowa,  and  northward.  Now  they  have  disappeared 
from  all  this  area,  and  are  rare  in  the  easterly  and 
more  cultivated  districts  of  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and 
Dakota,  where  their  range  is  annually  withdrawing 
westward.  Northward  they  are  found  as  far  as 
the  Peace  River,  and  eastward  to  Hudson  Bay; 
so  that  the  fullest  early  accounts  of  them  were 
given  in  the  writings  of  Pennant,  Richardson,  and 
other  naturalists  who  explored  the  Fur  Countries 
years  ago. 

Everywhere  the  badger  is  truly  a  "  beast  of  the 
fields"  —  an  inhabitant  of  the  open  country  —  dig- 
ging or  stealing  underground  holes,  and  preying 
upon  everything  it  can  catch  or  conquer.  Its  body 
is  two  feet  long,  extraordinarily  low-hung  and  broad, 
so  that  the  creature  appears  to  be,  and  perhaps  is, 
wider  than  it  is  tall ;  but  this  effect  is  partly  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  long  fur,  which  parts  upon  the 


136  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

spine  as  if  carefully  brushed  toward  each  flank,  is 
loose  and  flaring  at  the  sides,  giving  the  animal 
the  appearance  of  having  a  rather  stiff  fur  blanket 
balanced  across  its  back.  The  legs  are  short  and 
firm,  and  the  large  feet  are  furnished  with  long 
and  very  strong  claws,  making  them  powerful 
digging-tools.  The  tail  is  short  and  thick.  The 
head  is  broad,  massive,  and  dog-like,  with  round, 
furry  ears,  a  hairy  muzzle,  and  jaws  filled  with 
formidable  teeth,  scarcely  less  terrible  than  those 
of  the  wolverine.  The  whole  squat,  compact,  large- 
boned,  massively  skulled  form  indicates  great  mus- 
cular power ;  and  it  is  controlled  by  a  capable  brain 
and  an  indomitable  spirit. 

"  As  gray  as  a  badger  "  is  a  proverbial  expres- 
sion that  originated,  probably,  almost  in  the  begin- 
nings of  speech,  and  in  reference  to  the  European 
badger,  which  has  much  the  same  general  appear- 
ance and  methods  as  ours,  but  anatomically  is 
somewhat  different.  The  loose  fur  is  a  "  grizzle  of 
blackish,  with  white,  gray,  or  tawny,"  each  hair 
having  all  these  colors  on  some  part  of  its  length, 
and  the  whole  blending  handsomely.  The  colors 
vary  greatly,  however,  with  season,  age,  and  health, 
and  in  the  high,  arid  interior  of  the  country  are 
always  much  lighter,  less  tawny,  than  in  the 
moister,  easier  climate  of  the  Pacific  Slope.  The 
fur  of  the  under  side  of  the  body  is  more  uni- 
formly whitish  than  on  the  upper  parts,  except  as 
to  the  feet,  which  are  blackish  brown.  The  head 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  l$? 

is  strikingly  marked,  the  general  color,  from  the 
back  of  the  neck  forward,  being  dark  brown, 
broken  by  a  distinct  white  stripe  from  the  bridge 
of  the  nose  back  to  the  nape  of  the  neck,  and  a 
somewhat  irregular  white  stripe  on  each  cheek, 
reaching  from  the  corners  of  the  mouth  to  near 
the  top  of  the  ears ;  below  this,  on  each  side,  is 
a  crescentic,  dark-colored  patch,  separating  the 
stripes  from  the  white  of  the  ears  and  throat. 
These  conspicuous  markings  give  to  the  counte- 
nance an  expression  of  native  ability  and  shrewd- 
ness in  the  disguise  of  a  painted  clown ;  and  they 
set  one  a-thinking. 

Belonging  to  the  great  family  of  "  fur-bearing  " 
carnivores,  the  Mustelidae,  which  begins  with  the 
weasels  and  ends  with  the  sea-otters,  and  is  related 
to  the  bears  on  one  side  and  to  the  dogs  on  the 
other,  the  badgers  occupy  a  midway  place  in  their 
own  group,  between  the  skunks  and  otters,  and 
form  the  subfamily  Melinae.  Species  of  this  sub- 
family inhabit  Europe,  Asia,  and  America,  but 
those  of  the  Old  World  are  of  different  genera 
from  ours.  Thus,  the  common  badger  of  Europe, 
well  known  in  Great  Britain  and  elsewhere,  is 
Meles  vulgaris,  and  allied  species  belong  to  most 
parts  of  Asia ;  their  habits  are  much  like  those  of 
the  American  forms.  The  small,  fetid,  burrowing 
teledu,  or  stinking  badger  of  the  mountains  of  Java 
and  Sumatra,  is  Mydaus  meliceps.  The  sand- 
badger,  a  large  pig-like  species  of  the  mountains 


138  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  v 

of  northeastern  India  and  Assam,  is  Arctonyx 
collaris,  having  near  relatives  in  the  farther  East. 
By  recent  authors  the  skunks,  the  honey-badgers, 
(Mellivora),  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  polecats 
(Ictonyx),  and  the  small  Oriental  burrowers  of  the 
genus  Helictis,  are  also  put  into  this  section.  Our 
American  species  have  a  genus  of  their  own  named 
Taxidea,  of  which  there  are  two  species,  Taxidea 
americana,  our  common  Northern  form,  and  the 
Mexican  badger,  tejon  or  tlacoyote  (  T.  berlandieri\ 
but  the  latter  is  probably  only  a  geographical  variety 
of  the  former.  Everywhere  these  animals  agree 
in  having  long  fur,  without  much  ornament,  in 
their  choice  of  open,  somewhat  elevated  habitats, 
in  exhibiting  courage  and  voracity,  in  nocturnal 
disposition,  in  making  their  homes  in  burrows,  and 
in  possessing  perineal  glands  secreting  a  fetid 
liquor,  which  in  some  species,  and  especially  at 
the  breeding  season,  makes  them  extremely  offen- 
sive to  human  nostrils. 

So  much  for  the  badger's  place  in  nature. 

In  regard  to  the  habits  of  our  American  badger 
not  much  is  to  be  said,  due  both  to  the  fact  that 
the  animal  is  so  secretive  that  we  have  small  op- 
portunity to  study  it,  and  to  the  further  circum- 
stance that  its  life  is  exceedingly  simple.  In  such 
favorable  regions  as  the  dry  plains  that  stretch 
from  the  Rio  Grande  to  the  North  Saskatchewan, 
the  animal  is  still  numerous.  Besides  the  countless 
herds  of  buffaloes,  antelopes,  and  the  lesser,  but 


139. 


CHAP,  v  THE   BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  14! 

still  numerous,  bands  of  deer  that  originally  roamed 
over  them,  and  gave  sustenance  to  a  much  larger 
population  of  Indians  than  we  are  now  accustomed 
to  remember,  these  vast  pastures  teemed  with  small 
creatures.  Everywhere,  in  spite  of  their  early  rep- 
utation as  a  desert,  the  plains  were  clothed  with 
vegetation,  and  this  harbored  hordes  of  insects. 
Thousands  of  square  miles  of  grasses,  forage 
plants,  and  low,  fruit-bearing  shrubs  not  only  fur- 
nished almost  unlimited  pasture  for  the  bison, 
antelope,  and  deer,  but  also  gave,  in  the  way  of 
stems,  leaves,  seeds,  and  fruits,  food  for  an  in- 
numerable population  of  small  animals  able  to 
exist  without  a  great  amount  of  water.  Thus  the 
plains  abounded  in  a  large  variety  of  seed-eating, 
ground-haunting  birds,  together  with  many  insect- 
catching  and  predatory  kinds ;  in  snakes  of  many 
species  and  certain  other  land  reptiles ;  and  in  a 
long  list  of  rodents  —  ground-squirrels,  gophers, 
and  the  like ;  while  even  some  aquatic  and  arboreal 
animals  followed  the  larger  rivers  far  into  the 
plains  country. 

Such  an  aggregation  of  peaceful  animal  life, 
whose  unfortunate  part  it  seems  to  be,  in  the 
inscrutable  ordering  of  the  world,  to  furnish  food 
for  the  other,  fiercer,  half  of  the  denizens  of  the 
globe,  would  of  course  attract  an  army  of  flesh- 
eating  creatures,  eager  to  prey  upon  their  weaker 
brethren,  and  able  to  struggle  with  one  another 
for  the  spoils  of  rapine  and  robbery.  After  the 


142  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

big  grazers  —  the  buffaloes,  deer,  antelope  and, 
later,  the  wild  horses  —  came  the  bears,  the  puma, 
the  jaguar,  wild-cats,  and  wolves,  none  of  which 
despised  more  humble  prey  in  moments  of  hunger ; 
while  the  birds,  reptiles,  and  lesser  mammals  were 
incessantly  pursued  by  a  host  of  smaller  birds  and 
beasts  of  prey,  among  which  our  badger  took  a 
prominent  rank. 

The  existence  of  all  these  —  marauder  and  ma- 
rauded—  depended,  and  still  depends,  upon  their 
ability  to  cope  with  a  climate  which  adds  to  its 
cardinal  disadvantage  of  great  aridity  the  char- 
acteristic of  going  to  great  extremes  of  both  heat 
and  cold.  These  details  may  seem  wide  of  our 
subject,  but  it  is  highly  interesting  to  note  the 
kind  of  country  in  which  our  "  hero  "  chooses  to 
dwell,  and  also  who  are  his  companions,  and  the 
means  by  which  they  maintain  themselves  in  the 
competition  of  life.  Now,  whatever  may  be  their 
relations  with  each  other,  the  year's  weather — the 
climate  —  is  a  fact  that  all  have  to  reckon  with 
alike. 

The  dry  summer  heats  are  not  very  prejudicial 
to  the  birds,  and  when  pasturage  has  been  parched 
out  in  one  locality  the  grazing  quadrupeds  can 
move  to  another ;  therefore  these  are  able  to  avoid 
the  rigors  and  famine  of  winter  by  fleeing  to  a 
gentler  Southern  region,  as  all  such  animals  do, 
according  to  their  various  necessities,  followed  by 
the  big  cats  and  wolves.  But  with  all  the  smaller 


V  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  143 

animals,  from  the  badger  down  to  the  mouse  and 
lizard,  who  cannot  migrate,  it  becomes  a  case, 
literally,  of  "Root,  hog,  or  die!"  Shelter  must 
be  had,  and  as  the  only  shelter  possible  is  beneath 
the  ground,  every  creature  that  cannot  get  away 
in  the  fall  digs  a  hole  in  which  to  pass  the  winter. 
When  human  pioneers  decide  to  brave  a  winter  on 
the  plains  they  do  substantially  the  same  thing,  and 
for  the  same  reason;  for  an  Oklahoma  "dugout" 
is  scarcely  more  than  a  burrow,  furnished  with 
skins  and  cloth  instead  of  grass  and  leaves ;  and 
both  boomers  and  gophers  find  these  homes  beneath 
the  sod  highly  serviceable  against  the  heats  and 
dust-storms  of  summer,  as  well  as  against  the  blasts 
and  snows  of  winter. 

In  plainer  language,  then,  no  resident  mammals, 
with  a  few  rare  and  partial  exceptions,  can  make 
their  homes  upon  the  open  plains  of  our  West,  or 
on  the  pampas  of  South  America,  on  the  Karoo  of 
southern  or  the  Sahara  of  northern  Africa,  or 
the  steppes  of  Russia  or  Central  Asia,  unless  they 
have  acquired  the  knowledge  and  power  of  bur- 
rowing. It. is  probable  that  in  all  stages  of  the 
globe's  development,  since  land  animals  began  to 
roam  upon  it,  at  least,  there  have  been  wide  areas 
devoid  of  forest,  and  these  were  no  doubt  inhab- 
ited from  the  beginning,  inasmuch  as  some  of  the 
earliest  mammalian  forms  of  which  we  have  any 
traces  seem  by  their  structure  to  have  been  adapted 
to  this  manner  of  life.  It  is,  moreover,  almost 


144  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

wholly  among  the  plains-dwelling,  burrow-making 
animals  that  the  phenomenon  of  hibernation  is 
observed,  and  a  reason  for  this  coincidence  will 
be  apparent  to  any  one  who  gives  the  subject  a 
few  moments'  thought. 

A  burrow,  however,  affords  safety  against  their 
enemies  to  only  a  few  of  the  largest  and  strongest 
of  the  animals  habitually  digging  or  using  it,  of 
which  our  badger  is  himself,  perhaps,  the  best 
example.  With  him,  his  house  is  a  castle.  He  is 
a  rapid  and  powerful  digger,  and  seems  to  make 
more  holes  than  he  has  use  for.  Audubon  and 
Bachman  describe  the  work  done  in  this  direction 
by  one  they  had  in  captivity,  as  follows  : 

"He  would  fall  to  work  with  his  strong  feet  and 
long  nails,  and  in  a  minute  bury  himself  in  the 
earth,  and  would  very  soon  advance  to  the  end  of 
a  chain  ten  feet  in  length.  In  digging,  the  hind 
as  well  as  the  fore  feet  were  at  work,  the  latter  for 
the  purpose  of  excavating,  and  the  former  (like 
paddles)  for  expelling  the  earth  out  of  the  hole, 
and  nothing  seemed  to  delight  him  more  than 
burrowing  in  the  ground ;  he  never  seemed  to 
become  weary  of  this  kind  of  amusement;  and 
when  he  had  advanced  to  the  length  of  his  chain 
he  would  return  and  commence  a  fresh  gallery 
near  the  mouth  of  the  first  hole ;  thus  he  would 
be  occupied  for  hours,  and  it  was  necessary .  to 
drag  him  away  by  main  force." 

Jt  is  noticeable,  in  view  of  the  above,  that  the 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  145 

captive  mentioned  hereafter  seemed  to  know  noth- 
ing about  tunnelling  —  had  had  no  chance  to  learn 
the  art,  in  fact ! 

This  animal  is  firm  on  its  feet,  very  strong, 
armed  with  formidable  teeth,  and  is  an  indomitable 
fighter.  It  was  accounted  high  in  the  list  of  beasts 
giving  "  greate  dysporte  "  according  to  the  ancient 
canons  of  venery ;  and  badger-baiting,  once  a  pop- 
ular recreation  among  our  British  forefathers,  has 
not  yet  been  wholly  abandoned  by  the  ruder  of 
their  descendants.  In  early  times  it  was  customary 
to  place  the  captive  destined  to  furnish  the  amuse- 
ment near  a  hole  dug  in  the  ground  for  his  refuge, 
and  then  to  send  the  dogs  at  him  singly.  The 
favorite  sort  for  this  work  was  a  long-bodied, 
long-jawed  hound,  which,  as  the  badger  was  then 
frequently  called  the  "grey,"  came  to  be  known 
as  a  "greyhound."  Nowadays,  when  the  spcrt  is 
attempted,  a  barrel  is  furnished  instead  of  the 
snugger  hole  in  the  ground,  and  a  number  of  dogs 
are  set  upon  the  poor  beast  at  once  —  an  example 
of  how  such  cruel  sports  naturally  descend  into 
mere  torture.  This  villanous  practice  will  soon 
entirely  disappear,  but  its  memory  will  be  per- 
petuated in  the  expressive  verb,  "to  badger." 

While,  then,  he  can  and  does  put  up  a  good 
fight  if  attacked  when  abroad,  he  never  fails  to 
make  strenuous  efforts  to  gain  the  strategic  posi- 
tion afforded  by  the  mouth  of  his  tunnel,  —  the 
sallyport  of  his  fortress, — where  he  makes  a 


146  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

stand  against  anything  no  bigger  than  a  wolf,  at 
least,  without  hesitation.  But  such  encounters 
are  no  doubt  rare,  for  he  seems  to  have  no  enemy; 
that  is,  no  beast,  so  far  as  I  know,  habitually  preys 
upon  or  wars  against  him,  though  he  must  quarrel 
with  a  savage  rival,  now  and  then,  and  occasionally 
have  to  exert  himself  to  overcome  resistance  by 
his  victims.  The  only  creature  he  has  much 
reason  to  dread  is  the  rattlesnake,  and  he  proba- 
bly knows  how  to  manage  him,  not  to  speak  of 
the  considerable  protection  his  long  coat  and  loose 
hide  afford  against  harm  from  the  serpent's  fangs. 
The  animal's  strength  is  remarkable,  measured 
otherwise  than  by  its  fossorial  feats.  Lying  flat 
on  its  back,  it  rises  with  ease  to  a  sitting  posture, 
unaided  by  its  fore  paws.  A  captive  one,  less  than 
two  years  old,  would  shove  aside  a  loaded  Saratoga 
trunk  that  it  required  two  men  to  handle,  and 
once  moved  a  heavy  kitchen  range  from  the  corner 
to  the  middle  of  the  room. 

The  badger  feeds  upon  whatever  animal  food 
he  can  kill  or  catch  that  is  not  carrion.  He  may 
pounce  upon  a  slow-moving  snake,  toad,  or  lizard ; 
may  creep  up  to  the  hare  in  its  form,  or  to  a  bird 
upon  its  nest,  and  if  he  fail  in  the  latter  case,  for 
he  is  not  very  spry,  will  console  himself  with  a 
mess  of  eggs  ;  even  insects  are  acceptable,  and 
captives  take  almost  anything  that  is  offered  them, 
usually  sitting  up  and  holding  the  morsel  in  their 
paws  like  a  squirrel. 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  147 

His  principal  food,  nevertheless,  consists  of  the 
ground-squirrels,  gophers,  and  field-mice  among 
which  he  lives.  It  is  beyond  his  ability  to  chase 
and  catch  these  nimble  fellows,  for  the  badger  is 
slow  and  clumsy ;  but  it  "  is  the  work  of  a  very 
few  minutes  for  this  vigorous  miner  to  so  far  en- 
large their  burrows  that  it  can  reach  the  deepest 
recesses." 

Right  here  an  interesting  point  may  be  con- 
sidered. Where  the  prairie-dogs  and  other  sper- 
mophiles  are  especially  numerous  (and  they  exist 
in  countless  thousands  in  certain  districts  of  the 
Great  Plains,  Columbia  Basin,  and  southern  Cali- 
fornia), there  badgers  gather  in  corresponding 
numbers,  attracted  by  the  abundance  of  food ;  and 
they  must  often  encounter  one  another,  as  well  as 
the  coyote,  kit-fox,  ferret,  and  other  raiders,  bound 
upon  the  same  bloody  quest.  To  this  contingency 
the  curious  pattern  of  coloring  on  the  badger's  face 
seems  to  bear  direct  reference,  if  the  speculations 
of  the  natural-selectionists  have  any  basis  in  fact ; 
but  I  am  not  aware  that  this  point  has  been  men- 
tioned by  Poulton  or  other  exponents  of  the  phi- 
losophy of  animal  coloration.  Let  us  examine  it. 

The  only  part  of  a  badger  visible  when  it  is  sit- 
ting in  the  mouth  of  its  burrow,  as  it  likes  to  do, 
or  is  threading  its  way  through  some  underground 
passage,  must  be  its  face.  Now  this  is  the  only 
part  of  the  animal  that  bears  any  distinctive  color- 
mark,  the  remainder  of  the  body  being  simply 


148  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

an  indeterminate  gray.  The  sharply  contrasted 
stripes  of  white  and  dark  brown  upon  its  counte- 
nance would  be  visible  when  anything  could  be 
seen  at  all,  and  would  instantly  apprise  any  creat- 
ure what  kind  of  visitor  was  approaching.  These 
stripes,  then,  are  really  excellent  examples  of  what 
Mr.  A.  R.  Wallace  calls  "  recognition  colors,"  and 
frequently  also  of  "warning  colors."  Man  or  brute 
catching  a  glimpse,  in  the  shadow  of  a  hole,  of  this 
clownish  visage,  as  impersonal  as  the  bodiless  grin 
of  the  Cheshire  Cat  that  astonished  Alice  in  Won- 
derland, would  know  at  once  that  a  badger's  form 
and  ferocity  were  behind  it,  and  would  act  accord- 
ingly. An  exact  parallel  is  found  in  the  black- 
footed  ferret,  whose  dwelling-place  and  methods 
of  underground  foray  are  similar  to  those  of  our 
subject,  and  which  is  conspicuously  marked  only 
on  the  face.  In  neither  case  would  awkward  mis- 
takes arise  when  friends  or  allies  met  in  the  corri- 
dors of  their  own  or  an  enemy's  castle,  for  their 
very  foreheads  would  bear  the  family  crest.  The 
badger's  name  itself  is  a  curious  historical  affirma- 
tion of  this  scientific  proposition.  It  means  simply 
the  wearer  of  a  badge, — the  marked  animal.  The 
old  French  blaireau,  still  current  among  the 
French-Canadians  of  the  far  Northwest  (in  the 
corrupt  form  "braro"),  had  an  identical  signifi- 
cance ;  and  apparently  the  same  is  true  of  the 
early  English  term  brock,  —  probably  of  Celtic 
origin,  —  which  survives  to  this  day  in  the  north- 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  149 

ern  dialects  of  Great  Britain.  This  last  is  the  con- 
temptuous epithet  that  Shakespeare  employs  in 
"Twelfth  Night"  (Act  2,  Scene  5)  when  he  makes 
Sir  Toby  Belch  mutter  an  aside  of  annoyance  over 
Malvolio's  reading  of  the  dropped  letter,  —  "  Marry, 
hang  thee,  Brock !  "  And  do  you  not  remember  the 
curious  part  of  "next  friend,"  or  counsel  and  go- 
between,  that  Grimbart,  the  badger,  plays  in  the 
legend  of  Reynard,  the  Fox  ? 

It  is  amazing  to  see,  in  such  favorable  tracts  as 
have  been  mentioned,  how  the  ground  is  pitted 
and  honey-combed  with  old  and  new  burrows  of 
all  sorts.  The  danger  of  your  horse  stepping  into 
an  open  hole  is  doubled  by  the  chance  of  his  crush- 
ing through  the  roofs  of  unsuspected  excavations. 
Cattle-herding  horses  must  acquire  dexterity  in 
avoiding  such  accidents,  or  they  would  break  their 
limbs  and  risk  their  riders'  necks  fifty  times  a  day. 
I  shall  never  forget  a  wild  morning  I  once  spent 
near  Cheyenne,  hunting  antelopes  with  deerhounds. 
The  prairie  horses  —  mine  was  a  nervous  gray  that 
seemed  unable  to  stand  on  all  four  legs  at  once  — 
were  eager  to  enter  into  the  fun,  and  bore  us 
straight  across  the  country,  up  the  ridges  and 
down  the  hollows,  over  or  around  the  clumps  of 
sage  and  grease-wood,  at  topmost  speed,  twisting 
and  dodging  to  avoid  badger-earths,  ant-hillocks, 
prairie-dog  holes,  and  tall  bushes;  and  more  than 
once  my  horse  seemed  to  take  a  new  flight  in  the 
air,  when  he  rose  to  leap  over  a  thicket,  and  caught 


150  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

sight  of  an  unexpected  hole  on  the  other  side.  I 
managed  to  stay  with  him  wherever  he  went,  and 
came  back  all  right ;  yet  it  is  a  marvel  that  none 
of  us  lost  our  seats,  if  not  our  lives,  in  that  wild 
chase.  But  we  caught  the  antelope ! 

The  entrance  to  the  burrow  of  a  badger  is  much 
larger  than  that  to  a  prairie-dog's  hole,  and  no 
hillock  is  raised  about  it.  It  reaches  below  the 
frost-line,  and  may  be  almost  any  length.  The 
animal  changes  its  abode  frequently,  and  con- 
stantly digs  more  holes  than  it  needs,  thereby  sav- 
ing a  great  deal  of  labor  for  coyotes,  foxes,  ferrets, 
etc.,  who  take  possession  of  its  abandoned  en- 
trenchments and  probably  are  welcome  to  them. 
They  form  a  retreat  for  snakes,  too,  Dr.  Suckley 
making  the  gruesome  note  that  in  western  Minne- 
sota, about  1857,  he  found  old  badger-earths  in- 
habited by  vast  numbers  of  a  gregarious  species 
of  garter-snake :  "  I  have  seen  at  times,  at  the  bot- 
tom of  a  vacated  hole,  a  dozen  or  more  in  a  knot 
—  the  writhing,  excessively  serpentine  mass  dis- 
gusting all  but  the  naturalist."  The  rattlesnake 
is  a  frequent  and  dangerous  tenant  in  the  South- 
west ;  and  the  prairie-owl  a  comical  one. 

This  ubiquitous  turning  up  of  the  soil,  by  which, 
within  a  century  or  less,  over  the  widest  districts, 
every  square  yard  of  earth,  to  the  depth  of  several 
feet,  must  be  brought  to  the  surface,  and  exposed 
to  the  air,  while  an  enormous  amount  of  fertilizing 
material  has,  meanwhile,  been  dragged  into  the 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  151 

holes,  and  there  ultimately  mingled  with  the  earth, 
is  a  most  important  natural  process  of  soil-prepa- 
ration, equivalent  to  the  farmer's  ploughing  and 
manuring.  To  the  influence  that  fossorial  animals 
have  thus  exerted  must  be  largely  attributed  the 
decomposition  of  the  surface-rock  over  an  exten- 
sive area  of  the  plains,  and  its  change  into  good 
soil,  highly  fertile  wherever  water  is  obtainable  in 
suitable  quantity.  The  spread,  growth,  and  decay 
of  plants  would  accomplish  much,  and  is,  perhaps, 
the  chief  agency  in  the  production  and  enrichment 
of  earth ;  but  crumbling  rock-sand  would  be  very 
slowly  enriched  by  such  a  plant-growth  as  the 
short,  dry,  and  sparse  herbage  of  the  plains  af- 
fords, were  it  not  continually  exposed  to  the  chem- 
istry of  the  air,  mixed  with  vegetable  and  animal 
manure,  and  pulverized,  by  these  precursors  of 
agriculture. 

Little  is  known  of  the  reproduction  of  the  badger. 
Godman  tells  us  that  three  or  four  young  are  born 
in  summer,  and  that  the  period  of  life  may  reach 
fifteen  years.  In  the  United  States  the  animal  is 
more  or  less  active  all  winter,  being  able  to  search 
out  or  dig  out  enough  sleeping  ground-squirrels, 
marmots,  etc.,  in  spite  of  the  frost,  to  satisfy  its 
needs  if  not  its  appetite.  Farther  north,  however, 
the  greater  cold  and  enforced  famine  induce  or 
compel  it  to  pass  in  semi-torpidity  the  more  severe 
months  of  winter. 

Year  by  year  the  range  of  this  animal  is  nar- 


152  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

rowed  and  its  numbers  are  decreased  through  the 
encroachments  and  persecution  of  mankind.  The 
Indians  kill  it  for  food  when  they  can,  but  few 
white  men  have  been  able  to  stomach  the  flesh, 
which  is  tainted  to  the  fancy,  if  not  actually  to  the 
palate,  with  the  musky  odor  that  belongs  to  the 
animal,  and  arises  from  the  possession  of  anal 
glands,  similar  to  those  that  make  the  skunks  and 
many  other  mustelines  odious  to  us ;  but  our  Amer- 
ican badger  is  far  less  offensive  in  this  respect  than 
are  the  "stinking"  species  of  the  Old  World.  The 
fur  is  prized  by  the  Indians  for  various  special  pur- 
poses, and  enters  largely  into  modern  trade,  being 
well  adapted  and  beautiful  for  robes,  overcoats, 
and  the  like.  The  animals,  consequently,  are 
trapped  and  poisoned  extensively  for  the  sake  of 
their  pelts;  while  the  farmers,  with  a  sadly  mis- 
taken sense  of  propriety,  poison  and  drown  them 
out  as  nuisances.  I  say  mistaken,  because  the  only 
harm  badgers  do,  is  by  digging  here  and  there ; 
while  they  serve  the  farmer  beneficently  by  killing 
off  the  gophers,  rabbits,  and  ground-squirrels,  which, 
unless  their  multiplication  is  restrained,  may  speed- 
ily become  a  serious  pest,  as  has  been  shown  in 
California  and  Kansas.  Since  badger-baiting  has 
gone  out  of  fashion,  and  as  the  animal  is  not  in 
demand  as  a  pet,  efforts  are  rarely  made  to  take 
one  alive  by  smoking  it  out  as  used  to  be  done. 
It  is  a  waste  of  time  to  try  to  dig  one  out,  for  it  can 
go  deeper  and  deeper  as  fast  as  you  can  follow  it. 


v  THE  BADGER  AND  HIS  KIN  153 

The  following  extracts  from  an  account  of  a 
tame  badger  printed  by  the  Youth's  Companion,  in 
1896,  contain  interesting  facts.  He  had  not  yet 
opened  his  eyes  when  captured,  and  was  brought 
up  on  a  nursing-bottle.  He  thrived,  and  soon 
became  a  mischievous  pet,  constantly  under  foot. 
His  voice  was  that  of  a  very  young  crying  baby, 
but  much  more  noisy;  and  in  extreme  anger  he 
would  squeal  like  a  pig.  When  a  terrier,  whom  he 
was  constantly  teasing,  turned  on  him,  he  would 
tuck  his  head  between  his  feet  and  roll  himself 
into  a  compact  furry  ball  with  which  the  dog  could 
do  nothing ;  but  he  had  not  the  patience  to  main 
tain  this  attitude  of  defence  very  long.  He  ran 
almost  as  well  backward  as  forward,  but  liked 
better  to  reach  his  destination  by  rolling  over  and 
over  instead  of  walking.  As  he  grew  larger,  a  fa- 
vorite trick  was  to  open  the  door  of  the  stove  and 
rake  out  coals  and  ashes  upon  the  floor.  Although 
quick  to  resent  any  harm  (and  the  grandmother  was 
the  only  one  of  the  family  that  dared  punish  him  — 
before  her  he  was  meek),  he  seemed  never  to  bear 
resentment  or  be  treacherous,  and  was  well  dis- 
posed toward  strangers.  He  became  fond  of 
chasing  the  chickens,  and  would  make  havoc 
among  the  poultry  unless  prevented. 

"Badge,"  his  master  records,  "is  a  model  house- 
keeper in  his  way.  He  is  very  fond  of  cherries, 
nibbling  the  food  daintily  and  rejecting  the  pit. 
When  he  has  finished  eating  the  cherries  he  care- 


154  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  v 

fully  carries  the  pits  to  a  knothole  in  the  floor  of 
the  porch  and  drops  them  through  it  to  the  ground. 

"  Every  morning  when  he  gets  up  he  carries  his 
bed  out  of  his  little  house,  shakes  it  thoroughly, 
and  throws  it  over  the  boards  that  fence  him  in. 
At  night  he  always  carries  it  back,  but  through 
the  day  it  gets  thoroughly  aired. 

"  He  will  beg  and  scold  vociferously  if  he  is  not 
given  his  daily  bath.  This  he  takes  in  a  large 
dripping-pan,  washing  first  his  face  and  paws, 
then  getting  in,  first  on  his  belly,  then  turning  on 
his  back.  When  a  mere  baby,  he  fell  into  a  tub  of 
water,  which  gave  him  such  a  scare  that  any  large 
amount  of  water  will  still  frighten  him ;  but  he 
enjoys  his  shallow  pan  immensely." 

NOTE.  —  The  vast  and  destructive  spread  of  prairie  dogs 
on  the  Plains,  especially  from  Texas  southwestward,  which  in 
some  places  has  almost  prevented  agriculture,  and  in  others 
is  greatly  damaging  the  cattle  ranges,  have  made  the  squirrel- 
hunting  badger  one  of  the  most  useful  animals  of  the  region, 
and  one  which  should  be  zealously  protected  and  encouraged 
by  both  farmers  and  ranchmen.  In  western  Texas,  where  the 
plague  is  the  worst,  the  badger  is  the  most  persistent  and  ef- 
fective foe  of  the  prairie  dogs  and  gophers,  easily  digging  them 
out  of  their  deepest  burrows,  and  subsisting  almost  wholly 
upon  their  flesh.  As  each  badger  may  be  expected  to  destroy 
a  family  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  pests  every  day,  its  ser- 
vices are  well  worth  having,  and  to  kill  one  for  the  few  cents 
its  hide  is  worth,  or,  worse,  just  for  fun,  is  wasteful  and  foolish. 


'56 


VI 

ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  ANIMAL  INTELLIGENCE 

IT  is  a  long  time  since  naturalists  and  philoso- 
phers maintained  the  doctrine  that  animals  were 
mere  machines  controlled  by  an  inflexible  and  im- 
pulsive something  vaguely  called  "  instinct."  All 
reflective  men  now  believe  that  the  mind  of  an 
animal  differs  from  the  human  intellect  only  in 
degree,  and  to  say  that  brutes  have  no  capability 
of  comprehending  new  ideas,  of  acquiring  and 
memorizing  novel  information,  and  therefore  of 
improving  their  minds,  would  be  to  go  counter  to 
all  human  experience. 

The  extent  of  this  capability,  however,  remains 
a  question,  and  one  upon  which  close  observation 
of  our  domestic  animals,  our  pets,  and  particularly 
of  those  animals  trained  for  the  amusement  of  the 
public,  is  calculated  to  throw  much  light.  The 
study  of  wild  animals  in  their  native  haunts  may 
inform  us  what  progress  each  has  made  in  adapt- 
ing itself  to  the  natural  conditions  of  its  life ;  but 
the  study  of  tamed  animals,  placed  under  new  con- 
ditions and  influences,  will  show  whether  these 
are  capable  of  further  or,  at  any  rate,  divergent 


158  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

advancement  intellectually,  and  give  some  hint  of 
the  probable  limits  of  this  progress. 

It  should  be  noted  that  taming  and  training 
are  not  identical  terms.  Taming  is  merely  induc- 
ing an  animal  to  abandon  its  natural  feral  dis- 
position so  far  as  to  come  under  human  control 
and  be  more  or  less  sociable  with  man.  It  is  a 
matter  in  respect  to  which  animals  vary  widely, 
not  only  as  between  classes,  but  as  between  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  species.  Moreover,  tamabil- 
ity  seems  a  matter  of  disposition  rather  than  of 
intellect,  and  perhaps  pertains  to  a  lower  rather 
than  a  higher  grade  of  intelligence,  for  it  is  no- 
ticeable that  some  of  the  animals  most  clever  in 
the  school  of  the  menagerie  abandon  only  slightly, 
if  at  all,  their  native  savagery.  On  the  other  hand, 
some  animals  thoroughly  domesticated  seem  inca- 
pable of  any  considerable  degree  of  education  — 
though  perhaps  nobody  has  ever  tried  it  in  any 
proper  and  continuous  way.  It  would  be  hazard- 
ous to  allege  that  any  animal  organism  is  too  low 
to  manifest,  have  we  eyes  to  perceive  it,  some 
intelligence  superior  to  simple  sensitiveness  or 
unreasoning  instinct.  It  is  beyond  my  purpose, 
however,  to  deal  here  with  these  almost  imper- 
ceptible beginnings  of  brute  mind,  or  indeed  with 
natural  intellect  in  animals  at  all,  but,  rather,  to 
hasten  on  to  a  view  of  the  acquired  knowledge  and 
abilities  of  the  higher,  vertebrated  animals. 

Much  might  be  said  in  respect  to  the  inferior 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     159 

orders  of  these,  such  as  fishes,  amphibians,  and 
reptiles.  Examples  of  all  these  have  been  made 
pets,  and  taught  some  very  simple  actions ;  but 
the  so-called  performing  serpents  of  the  circus 
are  not  so  really,  simply  submitting  to  be  put 
through  certain  motions  in  the  hands  of  their 
keepers.  The  South  American  anaconda  seems 
to  be  more  amenable  than  any  other  snake  to  in- 
struction, really  amounting  in  some  cases  to  a 
trained  obedience. 

Birds  open  to  view  a  much  wider  range  of  men- 
tal capability.  Sportsmen  need  not  be  reminded 
by  me  of  the  accurate  way  in  which  hawks  are 
trained  by  falconers,  and  cormorants  are  employed 
to  bring  in  fish.  Here  the  natural  habits  of  the 
birds  are  controlled  at  man's  behest ;  but  the  edu- 
cation of  some  small  birds  has  led  them  far  be- 
yond the  range  of  their  natural  exertions  and 
aptitudes.  Such  are  the  performances  of  canary 
birds  and  other  trained  finches,  which  equal,  in 
the  mental  adaptiveness  and  grasp  implied,  those 
of  most  of  the  four-footed  performers  of  the  menag- 
erie. These  birds  will  tumble  like  gymnasts,  will 
draw  tiny  carriages,  discharge  firearms  at  one 
another,  drop  down  in  pretence  of  death,  and  do 
many  other  diverting  feats.  They  will  even  sub- 
mit to  be  handled  by  the  clown's  dogs  and  cats, 
showing  no  fear  of  these,  their  ancient  ogres. 

Though  finches  are  usually  selected  for  this 
kind  of  training,  there  seems  no  reason  why  a 


l6o  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

variety  of  other  birds  would  not  be  as  amenable 
to  the  patient  zeal  of  their  educators.  A  long  list 
of  birds  have  been  made  pets  of,  but  none  more 
prettily  than  the  clouds  of  doves  which  wheel 
about  the  head  of  an  Equestrienne  as  she  gallops 
swiftly  about  the  ring  of  a  circus,  displaying  her 
supple  body  in  graceful  attitudes  upon  the  back  of 
a  beautiful  horse.  One  of  the  quaintest  exhibi- 
tions I  ever  saw  was  that  of  trained  geese  and 
herons,  whose  awkward  motions  made  their  little 
"act"  extremely  comical.  Could  some  fancier 
manage  to  get  a  company  of  cranes  to  execute  on 
the  stage  the  extraordinary  dances  in  which  these 
and  some  other  birds  indulge  during  the  breeding 
season,  he  would  make  a  decided  hit. 

Probably  the  most  satisfactory  results  of  all 
would  be  obtained  from  careful  tuition  of  the  crow, 
which  seems  to  me  to  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
birds  in  respect  to  native  intelligence ;  and  it  is 
curious  that  so  little  has  been  done  with  him  in 
this  direction. 

When  we  come  to  the  quadrupeds,  a  great  field 
is  opened  to  us;  but  the  limits  of  space  require 
me  to  confine  my  attention  to  one  branch  of  their 
association  with  man,  as  illustrating  their  approach 
to  him  in  intellectual  power  and  attributes.  Let 
me  take,  then,  the  "stars"  of  the  menagerie  and 
variety  theatre  —  the  "performing  animals"  of 
the  showman. 

Highest  of  these  in  general  organization  stand 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     l6l 

the  four-handed  folk,  —  the  apes  and  monkeys,  — 
among  which  exists  a  vast  diversity  of  tempera- 
ment and  tractability.  Their  emotional  nature  is 
highly  developed,  and  this  often  leads  to  an  un- 
certainty of  temper,  and  a  ferocity  combined  with 
enormous  strength,  as  age  advances,  which  inter- 
fere sadly  with  the  work  of  the  trainer.  The 
higher  anthropoid  apes  become  wholly  unmanage- 
able in  advanced  life.  The  imitative  faculties  of 
monkeys  are  large,  however,  and  it  is  these  which 
are  cultivated,  the  teacher  adding  as  much  dis- 
crimination as  he  can  impart. 

It  is  hard  to  force  these  animals  to  fix  their 
attention  upon,  or  persevere  in,  any  one  thing; 
and  it  would  seem  that  their  minds  are  too  bright, 
while  lacking  balance  of  judgment,  for  the  trick- 
teacher's  purpose.  Hence,  in  shows,  nowadays, 
few  monkeys  are  introduced  except  as  rough- 
riders  upon  ponies,  where  they  lend  a  comical 
element  to  the  programme  of  the  ring.  Formerly 
their  grotesque  appearance  and  gestures  were 
more  taken  advantage  of.  In  France  one  may 
see  still  (or  lately  could)  a  troupe  of  monkeys 
managed  as  a  part  of  a  company  of  small  trick 
animals,  in  a  performance  called  "The  Roman 
Orgy."  The  manager  was  an  eccentric  genius, 
M.  Corvi.  Behind  a  table  well  provided  with 
biscuits  and  nuts  sit  a  row  of  them,  —  some 
dressed  as  monks,  others  in  military  style,  and 
others  in  the  classic  toga.  A  little  monkey,  with 


1 62  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

a  basket  in  his  hand,  dances  about  the  table, 
waiting  upon  the  company ;  and  the  whole  affair 
is  very  amusing,  but  not  very  edifying.  Two  cen- 
turies ago,  if  the  annals  of  such  resorts  as  Rane- 
leigh  Gardens,  in  London,  can  be  trusted,  monkeys 
were  taught  accomplishments  far  in  advance  of 
anything  in  modern  shows. 

Next  in  zoological  rank  to  the  quadrumana,  come 
the  carnivora  —  the  wild  beasts  —  lions,  tigers, 
leopards,  wild-cats,  wolves,  dogs,  foxes,  and  jackals ; 
and  those  of  the  sea  —  the  seals,  sea-lions,  etc. 

Here  culminates  the  interest  of  every  circus 
performance.  The  lion-tamer  is  king  of  kings. 
A  man  who  plays  with  tigers  and  juggles  with 
wolves  compels  us  to  admire  to  the  utmost  the 
dominance  of  human  courage. 

For  these  wild  beasts  are  controlled  wholly  by 
fear.  Some  men  may  acquire,  for  brief  periods, 
a  certain  influence  over  a  lion  or  tiger  or  leopard, 
but  they  are  never  safe  —  never  can  be  trusted  for 
a  moment ;  and  a  lion  "  tamer "  is  not  really  one 
—  that  is,  he  is  not  a  person  who  has  changed  the 
disposition  of  his  charges  from  enmity  to  friend- 
ship, persuading  them  out  of  their  savagery  into 
a  second  nature  of  trust  and  self-control ;  he 
is  simply  a  conqueror  who  enforces  obedience. 
And  how  complete  is  this  human  dominance  when 
it  can  force,  literally,  the  lion  to  lie  down  with 
the  lamb,  and  the  warring  barons  of  the  forest 
to  form  a  congress  of  peace  and  sit  in  a  tableau ! 


vi        ANIMAL   TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     163 

During  the  World's  Fair  at  Chicago,  and  for 
some  years  afterward,  the  principal  cities  of  the 
United  States  were  treated  to  exhibitions  of  Ha- 
genbeck's  remarkable  troupes  of  trained  animals. 
Hagenbeck  was  at  the  head  of  a  firm  in  Hamburg 
which  dealt  more  largely  than  any  other  in  the 
world  in  living  animals  for  zoological  gardens 
and  menageries,  and  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
produce  the  excellent  exhibition  he  had  organized. 
In  numbers,  variety,  and  freedom  from  visible 
restraint,  these  troupes  exceeded  anything  seen 
upon  the  modern  stage,  though  it  is  likely  that 
the  shows  in  the  ancient  Roman  arenas  equalled 
or  even  exceeded  them  in  both  skill  and  audacity. 
The  crowning  spectacle  of  each  performance  was, 
as  I  have  hinted,  a  tableau  in  which  lions  and 
lionesses,  tigers  and  their  mates,  leopards,  jaguars, 
pumas,  bears,  and  now  and  then  other  beasts, 
wholly  unchained,  mounted  upon  stands  and  ar- 
ranged themselves  into  a  sort  of  pyramid,  well 
worth  beholding ;  but  they  were  required  to  keep 
this  formal  position  only  a  few  seconds,  when 
they  gladly  obeyed  the  ring-master's  permission  to 
come  down  and  rush  away  to  their  dens.  But, 
after  all,  interesting  as  this  spectacular  "  act "  was, 
it  was  remarkable  only  in  showing  .how  the  most 
savage  and  naturally  jealous  and  quarrelsome 
carnivora  can  be  made  to  keep  the  peace  in  each 
other's  company. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  lions,  tigers,  and  their 


1 64  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

kin  have  minds  developed  in  a  wild  state  to  any- 
thing like  the  degree  of  those  of  many  of  the 
smaller,  fur-bearing  animals,  such  as  the  ermine, 
fox,  or  wolverine.  They  are  endowed  with  so 
much  agility,  strength,  and  endurance  that  they 
rarely  need  exercise  much  thought  in  securing 
their  prey;  while  the  caution  and  cleverness  re- 
quired of  the  weaker  species,  in  order  not  only 
to  get  food,  but  to  escape  from  their  enemies, 
which  sharpen  their  faculties  daily,  are  uncalled 
for  in  the  case  of  these  powerful  felines,  who 
dread  no  enemies  except  man. 

Why  they  should  feel  this  awe  of  man  it  is 
difficult  to  explain.  Neither  his  size  nor  his  erect 
position  can  account  for  it,  and  only  in  long-set- 
tled or  much-hunted  regions  can  the  power  of  his 
firearms  be  learned.  Captives  may  dread  the 
sting  of  his  whip,  yet  they  certainly  must  be 
aware  that  they  might  disarm  and  crush  him  with 
a  blow.  The  explanation  probably  is  that  they 
are  unable  to  comprehend  his  habits  —  to  fathom 
his  mental  attitude  —  to  learn  what  he  is  likely 
to  do  next,  and  are  awed  by  the  mystery  of  his 
conduct,  as  we  might  be  by  that  of  a  supernatural 
being  of  unknown  power  who  came  amongst  us 
and  threatened  our  liberty  and  happiness. 

The  minds  of  the  great  carnivora  are  therefore 
little  exercised  in  nature,  and  do  not  grow ;  and, 
accustomed  to  power  and  to  seeing  all  the  denizens 
of  the  forest  quail  before  them,  they  do  not  know 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     165 

what  it  is  to  feel  a  sense  of  help  needed  or  of 
favors  received.  It  is  perfectly  natural,  therefore, 
that  almost  all  trainers  should  agree  that  kindness 
(beyond  ordinary  fair  treatment)  is  wasted  upon 
them.  "  A  tigress,"  said  one  of  Barnum's  tamers, 
"  is  as  likely  to  eat  you  up  after  six  years  of  atten- 
tion on  her  as  after  six  days,  if  she  thinks  she  is 
safe  in  doing  so.  You  must  depend  on  fear  — 
absolute  fear  alone.  Let  the  beasts  know  that 
you  can  and  will  beat  them  when  they  deserve  it, 
and  they  will  not  hurt  you." 

The  celebrated  Bidel  once  tripped  and  fell  in 
the  cage  of  a  lion  with  whom  he  had  been  work- 
ing for  years,  whereupon  the  brute  pounced  upon 
him  with  scarcely  a  second's  hesitation. 

Nevertheless,  here,  as  elsewhere,  there  are  ex- 
ceptions. European  newspapers  a  few  years  ago 
told  the  story  of  a  German  woman  who  was  in 
the  habit  of  performing  with  a  lion  said  to  be 
very  fond  of  her.  On  one  occasion,  as  often 
before,  she"  placed  her  head  within  his  jaws,  and 
it  was  thought  her  hair  tickled  him,  thus  causing 
him  intuitively  to  close  his  mouth.  So  was  the 
poor  woman  killed.  When  the  lion  saw  what  he 
had  done,  down  he  lay  by  the  body,  and  refusing 
to  allow  it  to  be  removed,  declined  food,  and  in 
three  days  pined  away  and  died.  The  story  may 
be  true,  and  if  so,  records  one  case  against  a 
thousand. 

Nerve  —  that  is  the  great   secret   of   the   lion- 


1 66  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

trainer's  success;  and  ceaseless  vigilance  is  the 
price  of  his  life.  He  endeavors  first  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  his  charges  —  to  accustom  them  to 
his  presence  and  voice.  The  voice  is  more  to 
them  than  the  appearance.  To  enter  the  cage 
*in  a  new  costume,  without  first  speaking,  would 
be  to  invite  death,  for  the  lions  would  probably 
not  recognize  their  master  until  they  heard  his 
voice. 

The  would-be  trainer  must  study  his  beasts, 
doing  his  best  to  ascertain  their  individual  char- 
acters in  order  that  he  may  adapt  himself  to 
them.  A  few  early  prove  themselves  quite  un- 
manageable; and  it  is  said  to  be  easier  to  teach 
an  adult  captive,  fresh  from  the  wilderness,  than 
an  animal  born  and  reared  in  the  menagerie.  As 
for  the  training,  it  consists,  to  quote  Le  Roux, 
who  declares  himself  giving  the  words  of  an 
expert,  "in  commanding  the  lion  to  perform  the 
exercises  which  please  him ;  that  is  to  say,  to 
make  him  execute,  from  fear  of  the  whip,  those 
leaps  which  he  would  naturally  take  in  his  wild 
state." 

Barnum's  trainer,  alluded  to  above,  says  that 
lions  are  the  smartest  of  wild  beasts.  "  You  can 
train  a  lion  to  do  the  ordinary  tricks  in  trade  — 
jumping  through  hoops  and  over  gates,  standing 
on  his  hind  legs,  and  so  on  —  in  about  five  weeks' 
constant  work.  In  this  time-table  of  wild  beasts, 
you  can  estimate  that  it  would  take  a  lioness 


VI        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     167 

about  a  week  longer,  and  a  leopard,  which  comes 
next  in  intelligence  to  a  lion,  about  six  weeks,  to 
learn  the  same  feats.  The  tiger  would  take  seven 
or  eight  weeks ;  a  tigress,  eight  or  nine  weeks." 

Lions  have  been  taught  to  ride  on  horseback 
and  on  a  tricycle,  draw  a  chariot,  to  form  living 
tableaux  by  grouping  themselves  together,  some 
upon  the  backs  of  others,  etc. ;  but  it  is  said  that 
the  most  difficult  feat  of  all  is  to  teach  a  wild 
beast  to  let  you  lie  upon  it.  This  used  to  be 
done  every  night  during  one  of  Barnum's  tours, 
but  the  performer  said  the  tigress  underneath 
him  was  never  contented  with  it. 

Though  the  trainers  prefer  to  give  their  ex- 
hibitions just  after  the  beasts  have  been  fed,  this 
is  often  impracticable  and  does  not  make  much 
difference.  The  danger  lies  in  the  instinct  of 
ferocity,  not  in  a  desire  for  food ;  and  it  often 
happens  that  performances  in  travelling  shows 
are  given  with  animals  which  have  not  been  fed 
for  two  or  three  days.  There  is  this  difference 
between  the  ferocity  of  a  lion  and  a  tiger:  the 
former  will  attack  its  master  now  and  then  out 
of  spite  or  temper,  while  the  tiger  seizes  him 
through  sheer  love  of  blood.  All  tigers  are 
"man-eaters"  if  they  dare  to  be. 

Lions  have  been  a  part  of  public  shows  since 
history  began.  They  were  led  as  trophies  in  the 
"triumphs"  of  semi-barbarians,  and  were  ex- 
hibited and  sacrificed  by  thousands  in  the  Roman 


1 68  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

amphitheatre.  Six  hundred  were  provided  by 
Pompey  for  a  single  festival. 

It  was  with  the  idea  of  reviving  something 
of  the  glory  of  those  old  shows  that  an  arrange- 
ment was  made  at  the  Paris  Hippodrome,  re- 
cently, for  the  exhibition  of  lions  upon  a  grand 
scale.  Instead  of  a  cage  mounted  upon  a  wagon, 
these  bold  managers  proposed  an  arena,  and  in 
place  of  one  lion  a  score. 

When  the  time  comes  in  the  programme  for 
the  introduction  of  this  "  act,"  the  hippodrome 
is  cleared,  and  the  audience  awaits  in  tense  silence 
what  is  to  come.  Suddenly,  out  of  the  ground 
arises  a  palisade  of  sharp  iron  pickets  twenty 
feet  high  and  curved  inward  at  their  top.  It 
encloses  an  oval  fifty  yards  long  and  twenty 
yards  wide.  The  moment  it  ceases  to  rise,  and 
stands  fixed  in  its  slot,  an  opening  appears  in  the 
centre  where  flooring  has  been  removed,  and  half 
"a  dozen  men,  dressed  like  Roman  gladiators,  and 
each  bearing  a  whip  and  a  steel  trident,  enter 
by  a  little  gate.  They  shut  this  securely  behind 
them,  and  take  their  positions.  They  are  none 
too  soon,  for  already,  pushed  upward  upon  a 
platform-elevator,  which  rises  like  a  stage-trap 
in  a  theatre  to  fill  the  central  opening,  are  com- 
ing a  drove  of  lions  and  lionesses.  They  growl 
and  roar  as  their  great  manes  and  restless  bodies 
rise  above  the  surface,  arousing  the  greetings  of 
the  audience. 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     169 

The  instant  the  platform  rests  they  leap  off,  rush 
over  to  the  palisade,  and  follow  one  another  around 
it  in  a  swift,  creeping  trot,  seeking  some  outlet,  and 
now  and  then  pausing  with  upraised  heads  to  gaze 
through  the  thick  bars  or  to  examine  whether  it 
may  be  possible  to  leap  over  that  bristling  hedge. 
This  is  their  first,  natural,  invariable  behavior  — 
their  march  of  display,  like  the  grand  procession 
that  begins  the  circus.  Not  until  it  has  been  done, 
not  until  they  have  let  themselves  be  seen  as  they 
might  look  when  stealing  through  the  twilight  of 
the  desert,  not  until  they  have  again  satisfied  them- 
selves that  they  cannot  escape,  do  the  trainers 
crack  their  whips,  call  them  by  name,  and  put  the 
huge  beasts  clustering  about  their  feet  through  the 
leapings,  groupings,  and  various  familiar  tricks 
they  have  been  instructed  in.  When  the  pro- 
gramme has  been  finished  the  lions  return  to  the 
platform  and  sink  out  of  sight. 

The  same  thing  has  been  seen  more  lately  in 
the  United  States,  except  that  the  dramatic  en- 
trance upon  a  rising  platform  was  dispensed  with, 
and  the  brutes  came  bounding  into  the  arena 
through  a  side  door  in  the  palisade. 

Trained  elephants  probably  come  next  to  these 
great  cats  in  popular  esteem;  but  none  of  their 
show  tricks,  in  my  opinion,  evince  their  sagacity 
as  well  as  the  feats  they  do  in  the  Orient  for  some 
useful  purpose,  under  the  tutelage  of  the  native 
mahouts,  especially  in  moving  and  piling  timber. 


170  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

The  elephant  has  been  called  by  many  students 
of  his  character  the  most  intelligent  of  all  beasts. 
Whether  he  is  entitled  to  this  distinction  is  a  ques- 
tion still  undecided,  but  it  is  to  my  mind  an  evi- 
dence of  high  intelligence  on  their  part  that  they 
are  reluctant  to  practise  stage-tricks  which  must 
seem  to  any  self-respecting  animal  in  the  highest 
degree  foolish.  That  elephants  have  a  very  keen 
sense  of  dignity  and  propriety  is  plain.  They  are 
influenced  by  kindness,  susceptible  of  insult  and 
ridicule,  and  remember  for  a  long  time  an  injury, 
seeking  steadily  a  sate  opportunity  to  avenge  it 
upon  the  person  who  did  them  the  harm.  They 
take  great  pride  in  their  trappings  and  proficiency 
and  are  jealous  of  rivals.  This  feeling  an  intelli- 
gent trainer  will  take  advantage  of. 

African  elephants,  by  the  way,  are  said  to  show 
little  aptitude  for  tricks ;  but  this  may  be  a  false 
observation  due  to  the  fact  that  very  few  African 
elephants  have  been  available  for  experiment,  in 
modern  times,  at  least.  Probably  the  tamed  and 
trained  elephants  of  ancient  times  were  mainly  of 
the  African  species. 

The  first  of  the  elephant's  lessons  is  to  stay  in 
the  ring  and  walk  around  it  without  running  away. 
Some  elephants  show  early  that  they  never  can  be 
persuaded  not  to  bolt,  whereupon  their  schooling 
is  abandoned ;  and  all  are  prone  to  stop  their 
tricks  abruptly  and  go  out  —  no  doubt  in  disgust 
at  the  uselessness  of  it  all. 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     I?! 

When  the  animal  has  learned  to  stay  in  the  ring, 
and  to  walk  obediently  wherever  he  is  directed, 
his  weight  and  personal  idiosyncrasies  are  taken 
into  consideration  in  deciding  what  he  shall  do 
next ;  and  the  list  of  things  a  well-instructed  troupe 
will  do  in  a  modern  menagerie  is  long  and  varied. 
Take  for  example  the  young — and  hence  light 
and  comparatively  nimble  —  Indian  elephants  ex- 
hibited first  in  Europe  a  few  years  ago,  and  later 
shown  in  circuses  and  theatres  in  this  country, 
where  they  are  still  ( 1 897)  on  exhibition,  the  star 
of  whom  is  "  Boney." 

At  a  signal  from  hand  or  whip  one  will  lie  down 
to  permit  another  to  place  the  fore  feet  on  his 
prostrate  body ;  or,  mounting  upon  short  pillars, 
some  three  feet  in  height,  they  will  stand  on  their 
fore  legs  or  on  their  hind  legs  alone,  or  on  the  two 
legs  of  one  side,  or  the  two  diagonal  legs.  Not 
only  do  they  march  to  music  in  a  manner  bur- 
lesquing the  action  of  a  circus  horse,  but  will  play 
on  a  hand-organ  and  a  drum  simultaneously.  The 
couple  then  dine  at  a  table,  ring  violently  for  a 
second  course,  and  pay  the  bill  in  the  most  courte- 
ous manner. 

But  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  performance, 
as  I  saw  it,  is  that  in  which  they  show  that  their 
intelligence  or  their  schooling  (or  both  together) 
has  led  them  to  overcome  that  fear  of  movable 
objects  which  is  apparently  innate  in  all  elephants, 
and  due,  no  doubt,  to  an  appreciation  of  their 


172  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

great  weight.  To  quote  a  concise  and  authentic 
account : 

"  A  cylindrical  barrel  being  placed  on  its  side  on 
the  stage,  one  of  the  elephants  mounted  on  to  it, 
its  four  feet  being  close  together,  and  then,  pre- 
serving its  equilibrium,  it  moved  the  feet  so  as  to 
cause  the  barrel  to  roll  with  it  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  stage.  This  was  done  without  any  hesita- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  animal,  or  enforcement  on 
that  of  the  manager.  But  the  most  astounding 
performance  was  a  game  at  seesaw,  played  by  the 
two  animals.  A  strong  trestle  was  placed  in  the 
centre  of  the  stage ;  across  this  was  laid  a  stout 
beam,  oscillating  freely  up  and  down,  its  centre 
resting  on  the  trestle.  Going  to  that  end  of  the 
beam  that  was  resting  on  the  ground,  one  of  the 
animals  walked  up  it  to  the  centre,  and  then,  pre- 
serving its  equilibrium,  it  rocked  the  beam  up  and 
down.  .  .  .  Still  more  remarkable  was  the  seesaw- 
ing of  the  two  animals  at  the  same  time ;  sometimes 
they  were  on  the  narrow  beam  with  their  heads  in 
the  same  direction;  then  placing  themselves  fac- 
ing one  another  at  the  opposite  ends,  they  swayed 
their  big  bodies  to  and  fro  with  such  regularity  of 
rhythm  that  the  seesawing  took  place  with  con- 
siderable rapidity.  It  was  most  singular  to  see 
these  two  enormous  animals  swinging  with  as  much 
freedom  and  ease  as  two  children  on  a  plank  across 
a  prostrate  tree." 

Mr.  Adam  Forepaugh,  Jr.,  explained  some  time 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     173 

ago  to  a  New  York  Sun  reporter  how  some  of 
these  antics  were  taught.  To  make  an  elephant 
stand  on  his  hind  legs,  he  is  first  lifted  by  an 
apparatus  of  ropes  and  pulleys,  until  he  ascertains 
what  is  expected  of  him.  The  military  drills  and 
so-called  dances  in  figure  are  acquired  by  repeated 
rehearsals  with  men  to  guide  them,  but  he  does  not 
keep  time  with  the  music,  as  he  seems  to  do  —  it 
keeps  time  with  him. 

To  make  him  stand  on  a  barrel  or  roll  it  is 
simply  a  matter  of  inducing  him  to  remain  there  ; 
the  balancing  he  attends  to  himself.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  seesawing,  which  begins  with  a  plank 
flat  on  the  ground.  In  order  to  teach  an  elephant 
cycling,  he  is  first  placed  on  a  wooden  arrange- 
ment, with  his  feet  in  the  right  position.  When 
he  is  acquainted  with  this  he  is  advanced  to  the 
tricycle  itself,  which  is  held  steady  until  he  has 
taken  his  place,  when  the  blocks  are  removed,  the 
pedals  go  round  under  his  tread,  and  he  soon 
knows  that  he  will  not  fall  and  is  expected  to  work 
them. 

These  methods  are  very  simple,  but  several 
months  of  time,  expended  in  short  and  frequently 
repeated  lessons,  delivered  with  great  patience, 
and  without  missing  a  day,  must  be  given  to  in- 
struction, in  order  to  make  a  success  of  it.  The 
brevity  of  the  lessons  is  an  important  considera- 
tion. What  is  to  us  no  appreciable  exertion  at 
all  requires  an  effort  in  the  mind  of  an  animal 


1/4  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

which  soon  wearies  it,  and  makes  it  both  incapable 
and  unreceptive  of  further  instruction  until  it  has 
rested.  This  is  a  fact  worth  remembering  by 
amateurs  who  teach  tricks  to  their  pets,  and  often 
err  by  lessons  too  long  continued. 

In  the  St.  Nicholas  magazine  for  February, 
1882,  appeared  a  valuable  article  upon  "  Men-and- 
Animal  Shows,"  in  which  the  following  remark- 
able statement  is  made ;  I  have  never  known  of 
its  parallel:  "During  the  winter  of  1881,  a  num- 
ber of  elephants  were  in  training  at  Bridgeport, 
Conn.,  for  the  summer  campaign  of  Mr.  P.  T. 
Barnum.  They  submitted,  from  day  to  day,  with 
vast  grumbling  and  trumpeting,  to  have  one  leg 
or  another  tied  up,  and  be  driven  around  on  what 
they  had  left.  They  lay  down;  got  up;  obeyed 
every  order  of  the  teacher  as  well  as  ever  they 
could ;  carefully  imitated  one  another ;  but  their 
great  sagacity  was  shown  after  the  animals  were 
left  a  little  to  themselves.  The  keepers  observed 
them  on  their  exercise  ground,  with  no  human 
teacher  near  to  offer  a  word  of  suggestion  or  ex- 
planation, and  yet,  singly  or  in  pairs,  the  huge 
scholars  gravely  repeated  their  lessons,  and  did 
their  'practising'  on  their  own  account.  This 
was  the  secret  of  the  wonderful  proficiency  they 
afterward  exhibited  in  the  ring." 

These  facts,  which  I  have  verified,  form  quite 
the  most  noteworthy  evidence  I  have  ever  learned 
in  regard  to  animal  intelligence  as  affected  by 


vi        ANIMAL   TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     175 

special  training.  It  seems  to  me  better  than  the 
often-observed  behavior  of  riderless  troop-horses, 
which  join  their  squadron,  or  even  another,  and 
perform  all  the  evolutions  at  command  of  the 
bugle  as  though  guided  by  a  rider.  Here  their 
naturally  gregarious  tendencies  are  only  confirmed 
and  regulated  by  discipline,  for  they  are  acting  in 
concert  with  a  great  number  of  fellows. 

The  performing  horses  of  the  circus  never  fail 
to  win  admiration ;  and  the  training  of  what  are 
called  waltzing  horses  appears  to  have  greatly  im- 
proved of  late.  Still,  that  must  have  been  a  very 
striking  programme  carried  out  before  Louis  XIII, 
where  horses  danced  upon  their  hind  legs  to  the 
music ;  but  here  again,  as  in  the  case  of  elephants, 
it  was  the  musicians  who  kept  time  with  the  horses, 
and  not  the  horses  with  the  playing. 

The  horse  has  often  been  named  by  enthusiastic 
lovers  of  this  noble-hearted  friend  and  servant  of 
mankind  the  most  intelligent  of  animals.  Natu- 
ralists deny  this.  They  assert  that  in  some  facul- 
ties, as  memory,  his  brain  is  marvellously  endowed. 
He  is  kind  in  disposition,  grateful  and  quick  to  re- 
spond to  what  he  understands ;  but  in  a  wild  state 
he  shows  little  intellect,  and  outside  of  a  very  limited 
range  of  ideas  is  dense  and  slow.  No  animal  is 
more  liable  to  fits  of  unreasoning  panic,  when  he 
forgets  the  lessons  of  a  lifetime,  and  will  dash 
headlong  against  a  stone  wall  or  over  a  precipice 
without  a  thought  of  where  he  is  going. 


176  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

One  of  the  greatest  modern  trainers  of  perform- 
ing horses  is  the  Frenchman  Loyal.  He  makes  no 
secret  of  his  methods,  which  have  often  been  pub- 
lished—  latest  in  that  curious  and  entertaining 
book  by  Le  Roux  and  Gamier,  "Acrobats  and 
Mountebanks." 

The  horse,  in  the  opinion  of  this  experienced 
man,  is  one  of  the  dullest  animals  created ;  it  has 
but  one  faculty  —  memory.  It  must  be  forced  to 
learn  its  tricks,  which  are  imprinted  on  its  mem- 
ory by  the  whip  if  it  resist,  and  by  presents  of 
carrots  if  it  obey.  These  are  associated  in  its 
mind  with  certain  words  or  gestures,  and  it  goes 
through  the  list  from  fear  of  punishment  on  one 
hand,  and  in  hope  of  reward  on  the  other.  This 
is  certainly  different  behavior  from  the  lively  in- 
terest taken  by  horses  in  racing,  fox-hunting  and 
cattle-herding,  the  active  obedience  and  self-dis- 
cipline of  war  chargers  or  of  the  steeds  used  by 
firemen ;  but  in  these  and  similar  instances  the 
animal,  naturally  gregarious  and  accustomed  to 
compete  with  his  fellows,  is  doing  what  seems 
natural  to  him,  and  his  exertions  have  an  object 
and  result  that  he  can  comprehend.  The  feats  of 
the  circus,  on  the  contrary,  depend  for  their  popu- 
larity largely  in  forcing  the  animal  to  do  what  is 
contrary  to  his  nature,  such  as  strutting  about  on 
his  hind  legs,  poising  himself  on  pedestals  where 
there  is  scarcely  room  for  his  feet,  lying  down  to 
be  tramped  upon  by  his  master  or  mistress,  balanc- 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     1 77 

ing  upon  a  narrow  pathway  in  imitation  of  an 
equilibrist,  and  other  things  —  the  more  out  of  the 
way,  the  better  in  the  estimation  of  the  populace 
—  in  which  a  horse  can  take  no  interest,  and  in 
doing  which  he  must  lose  that  self-respect  and 
pride  so  manifest  in  him  under  better  circum- 
stances. While  these  feats  are  astonishing,  they 
are  rarely  graceful  or  agreeable  to  the  better 
taste. 

The  ring-master  of  Barnum  and  Bailey's  present 
circus  makes  a  very  picturesque  arrangement  of  a 
large  number  of  trained  horses  which  group  them- 
selves about  him  upon  a  stand  consisting  of  a  cir- 
cular series  of  rising  steps,  where  the  horses  stand 
facing  toward  the  top,  their  fore  feet  resting  upon 
the  next  higher  step  in  front  of  them ;  after  which 
they  move  rapidly  round  and  round,  the  line  upon 
each  step  heading  a  different  way  from  that  above 
and  below  it.  This  is  a  very  attractive,  but  not 
a  particularly  difficult  "act,"  deriving  its  worth 
mainly  from  the  large  number  of  free  horses  that 
act  in  unison. 

Any  horse,  according  to  M.  Loyal,  can  be 
trained  by  judicious  force ;  yet  certain  breeds, 
as  the  Arabian  horses  and  those  from  Old  Prussia, 
are  easier  to  teach  than  any  others,  and  the  age  is 
of  great  importance.  The  best  education  is  re- 
ceived between  the  fifth  and  seventh  years  of  the 
animal's  life ;  before  that  the  horse  is  too  excita- 
ble ;  afterward,  likely  to  be  stiff. 


1/8  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

The  intelligence  and  cunning  of  mules  are  sur- 
prising. Few,  however,  have  been  trained  to  per- 
form in  public.  The  donkey,  on  the  contrary, 
has  been  the  clown's  accompanist  for  centuries, 
caricaturing  his  nobler  brethren  of  the  ring,  as 
his  master  caricatures  the  ring-masters  and  gym- 
nasts. Twice  within  a  few  years  troupes  of  asses 
have  been  exhibited,  performing  in  concert  most 
of  the  feats  usually  taught  to  horses,  and  doing 
them  quite  as  well.  The  male  ass  is  regarded  as 
a  dangerous  animal,  however.  His  gaudy  halter 
is  really  a  strong  muzzle  to  prevent  his  biting, 
and  his  hoofs  are  never  shod,  for  he  is  likely  to 
kick  at  times  when  it  is  not  his  cue  to  do  so. 
Lately  a  good  deal  has  been  done  toward  domes- 
ticating and  training  to  harness  the  zebra  —  that 
is,  Burchell's  zebra ;  but  though  this  has  met  with 
considerable  success  in  South  Africa,  the  zebra 
takes  no  part  in  the  show-ring  as  yet  beyond 
drawing  a  wagon  now  and  then. 

Even  bulls  have  been  put  into  the  show-tent. 
An  old  book  records  that  in  1270  oxen  were  ex- 
hibited in  England  which  could  ride  on  horse- 
back. During  the  summer  of  1883,  two  young 
bulls  were  performing  at  the  Westminster  Aqua- 
rium in  London,  whose  docility  was  at  least 
remarkable  for  novelty.  They  marched  and 
countermarched,  stood  upon  pedestals,  operated 
the  seesaw,  walked  up  and  down  stairs,  fired 
pistols  and  rang  bells  by  pulling  cords  with  their 


VI        ANIMAL   TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     179 

mouths,  and  one  jumped  over  the  other's  back. 
These  were  young  animals,  but  whether  they  im- 
proved as  they  grew  older,  or,  instead,  became 
stolid  and  unwieldy,  I  am  not  informed.  Per- 
forming bulls  equal  to  them  in  extent  of  pro- 
gramme, at  least,  have  been  exhibited  in  the 
United  States  more  recently  and  are  still  to  be 
seen. 

The  natural  agility  of  goats  has  often  been 
taken  advantage  of  by  trainers,  who  have  taught 
them  to  climb  precarious  structures  and  to  stand 
on  the  tops  of  bottles,  and  in  other  ticklish  situa- 
tions. This  is  in  pursuance  of  the  rule  that  all 
trainers  ought  to  follow,  namely,  to  make  an  animal 
do  difficult  things  only  in  the  line  of  his  inherent 
abilities.  The  goat  is  a  natural  climber  and  equili- 
brist, or  he  never  could  have  been  taught  to  walk 
an  ordinary  and  legitimate  tight  rope,  as  one  did 
nightly  in  London  some  time  ago. 

Clowns  often  exercise  the  bear  and  pig  in 
public.  Two  or  three  centuries  ago,  trick-bears 
were  constantly  travelling  about  Europe.  The 
bear  exhibits  great  ingenuity  and  wit  in  his  native 
forest;  but  trainers  say  he  is  one  of  the  hardest 
and  most  unsatisfactory  animals  to  teach. 

The  educated  pig  is  a  more  modern  addition  to 
the  theatrical  menagerie.  No  animal  looks  more 
stupid,  but  every  farmer  can  tell  you  this  is  an 
error.  The  wiles  and  sagacity  of  the  animal  in 
a  wild  state,  or  when  allowed  to  run  loose  and 


ISO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

root  in  the  forests  or  fields,  are  the  subjects  of 
many  anecdotes.  They  have  been  trained  in 
several  instances  to  scent  and  point  game-birds 
like  a  dog;  and  have  been  a  feature  at  country 
fairs  in  Great  Britain  for  many  years,  picking 
out  letters  of  the  alphabet  as  they  were  called, 
and  forecasting  the  fortunes  of  rustic  damsels  by 
selection  of  cards. 

The  French  clown  Corvi,  of  whom  I  spoke 
a  little  while  ago,  trained  pigs  effectually,  and 
says  that  it  requires  extreme  patience  and  tender- 
ness of  treatment.  The  least  touch  of  the  whip 
disfigures  the  tender  skin  and  disgusts  the  ani- 
mal with  work.  Only  coaxing  succeeds.  There 
is  an  Irish  proverb  which  runs  thus :  "  Beat  your 
wife  with  a  cudgel,  and  your  pig  with  a  straw." 

The  minor  carnivora  have  furnished  the  theatre 
with  several  profitable  animals,  as  dogs,  cats, 
wolves,  jackals,  hyenas,  seals,  and  others. 

Of  the  dog  we  would  expect  a  great  deal  under 
the  tutelage  of  a  practical  teacher  of  animal  tricks, 
and  the  public,  perhaps,  has  not  been  disappointed, 
though  to  the  naturalist  the  result  does  not  seem 
very  extensive  or  encouraging.  Of  all  animals,  it 
is  the  one  most  closely  associated  with  man,  and 
probably  has  the  deepest  insight  into  the  human 
mind  —  quite  as  deep,  perhaps,  as  we  have  into 
the  canine  mind.  Through  unnumbered  genera- 
tions of  special  breeding,  his  inclinations  have 
been  modified  toward  those  things  in  which  he 


VI        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     l8l 

serves  his  human  masters,  and  his  mind,  accus- 
tomed to  the  complexity  of  human  methods,  is 
ripe  to  acquire  new  ideas. 

In  fact,  it  cannot  be  too  strongly  urged  that  the 
work  of  the  sheep-herding  collie,  of  the  dogs  used 
in  finding,  attracting,  or  retrieving  game,  in  dis- 
covering truffles,  in  rescuing  lost  or  drowning  per- 
sons, etc.,  exhibit  far  more  real  brain-power, 
sagacity,  and  true  education  than  all  of  the  ac- 
complishments of  trick-dogs  put  together.  These 
latter  are  merely  doing  over  and  over  a  routine 
of  things  of  no  real  importance  or  object,  and 
which,  as  they  are  always  precisely  the  same, 
call  for  nothing  more  than  memory  and  willing- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  performers ;  whereas  the 
work  of  a  shepherd's  or  drover's  dog,  of  a  setter 
on  the  shooting-ground,  and  of  many  other  dogs 
in  the  service  of  mankind,  requires  a  constant 
exercise  of  judgment,  discrimination,  and  adapta- 
bility, and  furnishes  an  incessant  stimulus  to  their 
minds.  No  automaton  could  serve  their  purpose ; 
and  could  they  not  accommodate  their  conduct 
intelligently  to  their  master's  movements  and  to 
constantly  varying  circumstances,  they  would  be 
comparatively  useless.  Any  sportsman  or  herder 
will  tell  you  that  good  sense  is  the  most  essential 
quality  in  his  four-footed  assistant.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  trick-dogs  are  usually  chosen  from  breeds 
that  are  good  for  nothing  else. 

This  introduces  a  general  and,  I  believe,  a  just 


1 82  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

criticism  of  most,  if  not  all,  the  exhibitions  of 
trained  animals  seen  in  modern  days ;  namely, 
that  the  "  tricks "  they  are  taught  are  in  them- 
selves trivial  and  without  any  purpose  likely  to 
interest  or  reward  the  performer.  They  tend  to 
stultify  rather  than  improve  the  animal's  mind ; 
and,  so  far  from  being  marvels  of  intelligence, 
rarely  show  even  the  extent  of  the  natural  capa- 
bilities discernible  by  an  appreciative  eye  in  the 
untrained  animal.  The  truth  is  the  trainer  is 
exhibiting  himself,  not  his  animals,  and  it  is  the 
teacher  rather  than  his  pupils  that  we  ought  to 
admire. 

Wolves  have  always  been  regarded  as  nearly 
intractable;  but  that  they  could  be  both  tamed 
and  trained  has  been  shown  within  the  past  few 
years  by  a  French  trainer  who  had  a  pack  that 
would  perform  like  dogs.  The  hyena,  too,  is 
taught  tricks,  but  it  is  said  to  require  a  long 
time  and  many  lessons  to  force  anything  into 
his  head.  Seals,  on  the  contrary,  are  docile,  and 
are  taught  to  do  a  number  of  feats  which  derive 
their  interest  mainly  from  seeing  the  attempts 
of  such  awkward  animals  to  do  what  a  dog 
or  cat  would  do  naturally  and  easily.  They  show, 
at  any  rate,  bright  minds  and  great  docility. 

A  pretty  young  woman  lately  caused  much  inter- 
est in  Paris  by  an  exhibition  of  trained  rabbits,  and 
Mademoiselle  Claire's  white  pets  seemed  greatly 
to  enjoy  their  mimicry  of  the  big  elephants  of 


VI        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     183 

the  circus.  A  series  of  illustrations  shows  a  rab- 
bit sitting  on  top  of  a  long  paper  cylinder  or 
tunnel,  supported  upon  a  stick,  while  a  procession 
of  bunnies  bolts  incontinently  through  it.  Just 
below,  a  clown-rabbit  is  seen  jumping  through 
a  paper  drum,  while  another  circus  rabbit  fires 
a  pistol,  and  still  a  third  drags  a  miniature  chariot 
around  the  arena.  While  a  dissipated  little  creat- 
ure stands  on  his  head  and  shows  other  signs 
of  over-indulgence,  another  pet  rocks  gently  to 
and  fro  in  a  little  swing.  Others  of  Mademoi- 
selle Claire's  performers  scamper  under  burning 
wickets,  and  vault  between  blazing  candles  over 
a  succession  of  candelabra  arranged  as  hurdles. 

This  is  much  prettier  than  the  trained  rats  and 
mice  which  have  been  shown  in  the  same  city  of 
clever  people,  for  all  our  associations  with  the 
rabbit  are  endearing ;  and  the  success  that  has 
followed  the  training  of  these  pets,  which  do  not 
stand  high  in  brain  power,  goes  to  show  what  I 
have  suggested  hitherto,  that  if  its  disposition  is 
favorable,  a  weak-minded  animal  learns  tricks 
more  satisfactorily  than  a  strong-minded  one. 

With  some  account  of  a  most  interesting  troupe 
of  trained  cats  this  essay  must  come  to  a  close ; 
and  this  account  has  been  left  until  the  last  be- 
cause it  is  perhaps  the  most  recent,  and  one  of 
the  most  striking  of  the  trainer's  triumphs.  This 
troupe  is  that  of  the  young  Dutchman  Bonnetty, 
which  formed  one  of  the  main  attractions  of  the 


1 84  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Winter  Circus  at  Paris  some  years  ago.  These 
cats  were  all  of  a  Dutch  breed,  which  Bonnetty 
says  are  especially  docile;  and  his  method  was 
simply  patient  persistence  in  informing  the  cat 
what  was  wanted  of  it,  and  persuading  it  to 
do  that  thing.  Here  whipping  and  harsh  words 
are  of  no  use.  Pussy's  nature  is  quite  different 
from  the  dog's.  If  the  cat  refuses  to  do  what  you 
wish,  and  cannot  be  coaxed,  violence  will  only 
harden  her  heart.  You  must  simply  abandon  the 
matter  for  that  time  at  least.  The  hardest  work 
was  to  teach  the  first  cat.  It  required  months  of 
patient  attention.  Adding  them  one  by  one,  he 
found  the  training  of  the  late  recruits  much  easier, 
because  they  imitated  quickly  what  the  older  per- 
formers were  doing.  Bonnetty  has  never  been 
able  to  succeed  in  teaching  Persian  or  Angora 
cats,  and  does  not  find  kittens  much  more  ready 
to  learn  than  full-grown  cats.  He  says,  also,  that 
some  cats,  able  and  willing  to  go  through  their 
antics  well  in  private,  cannot  be  induced  to  attempt 
them  amid  the  noise  and  glare  of  the  circus. 

There  were  fifteen  or  twenty  cats  in  his  troupe. 
When  the  curtain  rose  a  flock  of  canaries  was  seen 
perched  upon  a  cord  stretched  across  the  stage. 
Near  them  some  white  mice  and  dappled  gray 
rats  were  resting  quietly.  M.  Bonnetty  opened 
the  door  of  the  cats'  palace,  and  in  Indian  file  all 
the  artists  marched  slowly  out,  striding  over  the 
rodents  and  birds,  some  of  which  flew  off  and  fear- 


vi        ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  INTELLIGENCE     185 

lessly  returned,  alighting  on  the  heads  of  the  cats. 
They  caught  these  little  animals,  their  natural 
prey,  and  played  with  them,  holding  them  in 
their  paws,  and  even  in  their  teeth,  without  doing 
them  the  slightest  injury;  they  jumped  through 
a  blazing  hoop  held  up  by  the  trainer,  made  sur- 
prisingly long  leaps  over  hurdles ;  turned  summer- 
saults, and  did  other  gymnastic  exercises  on  the 
backs  of  thirty-two  chairs  placed  in  a  row ; 
marched  around  in  time  to  music  like  little  sol- 
diers, and  grouped  themselves  in  many  graceful 
and  comical  attitudes.  In  all  these  capers  the 
pussies,  who  live  a  life  of  royal  comfort  and  in- 
dulgence, seemed  to  enjoy  themselves  as  much  as 
if  the  whole  affair  were  a  spontaneous  frolic ; 
but  it  is  noteworthy  that  these  trained  cats,  while 
tamed  to  a  very  unusual  degree  by  their  kind, 
patient,  and  persistent  master,  must  be  kept  strictly 
captive,  since  otherwise  they  would  run  away 
upon  those  nocturnal  expeditions  in  which  the 
house  pet  becomes  once  more  the  wild  cat,  taking 
to  the  roofs  and  back  fences  of  the  city  only  be- 
cause there  is  no  jungle  convenient ;  and  M.  Bon- 
netty  has  lost  two  or  three  of  his  best  performers 
by  such  escapades. 

Their  education  and  training,  after  all,  is  only 
skin  deep  —  an  acquired  polish  affecting  character 
to  only  a  small  degree.  This  is  true  of  nearly  the 
whole  menagerie,  which  lives  at  best  an  artificial 
life ;  and  nowadays  I  rarely  go  to  see  it. 


VII 

A  WOODLAND   CODGER 

THE  porcupine  is  one  of  the  queerest,  and  by 
no  means  the  prettiest,  of  our  sylvan  friends. 
His  broad,  lumpish  body,  twice  the  bigness  of  a 
woodchuck,  is  modelled  upon  the  shape  of  an 
egg ;  the  nose  is  blunt,  the  legs  are  short,  and  one 
wonders  how  this  Falstaff  of  the  woods  can 
scramble  over  the  rocks  and  up  and  down  trees 
as  well  as  he  does.  But  for  something  to  laugh 
at,  get  the  queer  little  codger  to  sit  up  on  his  hams, 
with  his  tail  planted  behind,  like  one  foot  of  a 
tripod. 

He  seems  truly  a  witless,  slow,  unsociable  beast, 
working  at  night  for  the  most  part,  more  from 
churlishness  than  for  any  practical  reason,  minding 
his  own  business,  and  insisting  that  his  neighbors 
attend  strictly  to  theirs.  He  may  even  be  quarrel- 
some when  interfered  with,  and  Shakespeare  hit  it, 
as  usual,  when  he  characterized  the  porcupine  as 
"  fretful."  He  will  never  take  the  trouble  to  be 
aggressive;  but  he  knows  he  is  well  prepared, 
and  resists  an  enemy  with  such  vigor  that  he  is 
rarely  overcome.  He  is  much  better  armed  than 
1 86 


i87 


CHAP. vii  A    WOODLAND    CODGER  189 

the  European  porcupine,  whose  forward  parts  are 
so  largely  unprotected  that  a  wolf  or  a  big  cat  need 
only  be  agile  enough  to  seize  or  strike  the  head  in 
order  to  kill  it,  while  our  subject  is  completely 
clothed  with  stiff  quills,  which,  by  their  peculiar 
construction,  form  as  efficient  an  armor  as  do  the 
more  solid  shields  of  the  armadillo,  —  more  effi- 
cient, in  fact,  since  a  jaguar  or  puma  will  simply 
crush  a  small  armadillo  and  eat  it,  shell  and  all, 
as  a  man  might  an  almond ;  whereas,  the  longer 
a  wild-cat  gnaws  at  the  urson  (as  Buffon  called 
it),  the  greater  its  discomfiture,  even  when,  as 
sometimes  happens,  he  succeeds  in  devouring  the 
prickly  meal.  This  very  week,  I  have  read  an  ac- 
count of  a  lynx,  ravenous  with  hunger,  to  judge 
by  its  empty  stomach  and  very  gaunt  appearance, 
found  dead  beside  a  stricken  porcupine,  its  mouth 
full  of  quills,  one  of  which,  in  its  struggles  to  rub 
them  out,  the  creature  had  pushed  through  its  eye 
into  its  brain.  Here  is  a  tragedy  of  the  woods. 

These  quills  are  intermixed  with  long,  brownish 
black  hair,  which  here  and  there  grows  in  tufts, 
and  on  the  back  and  sides  is  sometimes  eight 
inches  long,  but  on  the  belly  and  inside  of  the 
limbs  forms  a  dense  fur.  The  hair  of  the  nose 
changes  almost  insensibly  into  short  spines,  an 
inch  or  less  long,  which  gradually  increase  to  a 
length  of  four  or  five  inches  on  the  haunches  and 
tail.  They  are  white,  tipped  with  blackish  brown, 
as  a  rule,  but  not  banded  like  those  of  the  Old 


190  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

World  species.  All  the  quills,  which  are  in  reality 
only  modified  hairs,  and  are  hollow  and  rigid  like 
the  stems  of  feathers,  point  backwards  and  ordina- 
rily lie  close  to  the  body,  but  may  be  erected  by 
the  voluntary  action  of  muscles  underlying  the 
skin.  This  done,  their  points  stand  out  on  every 
side,  presenting  a  chevaux-de-frise  within  which 
the  animal  squats  as  secure  as  one  of  the  High- 
land squares  at  Waterloo. 

The  self-inflating  spiny  globe-fishes  and  the 
hedgehog  (not  to  speak  of  thorny  invertebrates, 
such  as  the  sea-urchins,  murices,  etc.)  enjoy  a  simi- 
lar defence ;  but  the  porcupine's  armament  is  supe- 
rior to  any  of  these,  for  it  is  offensive  as  well  as 
defensive. 

It  is  a  long-discredited  fable,  of  course,  that  the 
porcupine  shoots  his  spines  at  a  tormentor,  just  as 
we  no  longer  believe  that  it  lays  eggs  or  brings 
water  in  its  quills  to  its  young ;  but  the  seed  of 
truth  in  the  matter  is  the  fact  that  the  quills  are  so 
loosely  attached  to  the  flesh  as  to  be  readily  de- 
tached, and  in  fact  some  may  be  flirted  out  when 
the  animal  shakes  himself  vigorously  —  something 
he  never  does  if  he  can  avoid  it.  Moreover,  each 
spine  is  needle-pointed,  and  minutely  but  strongly 
barbed,  so  that  it  sticks  in  whatever  touches  it,  and 
is  immediately  withdrawn  from  the  skin.  Thus 
any  animal  that  leaps  upon  or  bites  a  porcupine 
finds  its  paws,  shoulders,  and  mouth  full  of  de- 
tached quills,  which  so  divert  its  attention  for  some 


vil  A    WOODLAND   CODGER  191 

time  to  come  that  it  rarely  notices  the  escape  of  its 
would-be  victim.  Every  movement  of  the  muscles 
causes  them  to  penetrate  deeper ;  and  there  seems 
no  limit  to  their  inflammatory  and  often  fatal  trav- 
els. Dr.  Merriam  says  that  he  has  found  them 
everywhere  in  animals  that  he  has  dissected,  once 
discovering  a  whole  quill  between  the  two  leg 
bones  of  the  hind  limb  of  a  fisher.  Nevertheless, 
the  porcupine  is  occasionally  attacked  and  killed 
by  panthers,  wild-cats,  wolves,  martens,  eagles,  and 
owls,  but  this  usually  happens,  probably,  under  the 
stress  of  extreme  hunger  and  in  winter,  as  in  the 
case  related  a  moment  ago.  Few  dogs  seem  to 
have  sense  enough  to  let  him  alone ;  and  it  is  be- 
cause so  many  of  these  are  injured  that  hunters 
regard  the  porcupine  as  vermin,  and  kill  it  at  every 
opportunity. 

But  the  animal  is  not  content  merely  to  curl  up 
and  let  an  enemy  come  to  grief  upon  his  defences, 
for  he  possesses  in  his  thick,  triangular,  muscular 
tail,  along  the  sides  of  which  grow  the  stiffest  and 
strongest  of  quills,  a  powerful  weapon  for  active 
warfare.  I  was  once,  with  a  friend,  climbing  one 
of  the  Catskill  peaks,  when  we  ran  across  a  porcu- 
pine and  quickly  cornered  it  in  a  nook  of  rocks. 
Ducking  its  head  between  its  fore  feet,  swelling  up 
and  turning  its  back  upon  us,  it  instantly  bristled 
all  over  until  it  looked  like  a  big  ripe  chestnut 
burr.  Its  tail  seemed  to  offer  a  sort  of  handle, 
however,  and  before  I  could  remonstrate,  my 


192  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

friend  reached  forward  for  it.  He  had  not  fairly 
touched  it  before  he  leaped  back  with  a  howl  of 
surprise  and  pain,  and  held  up  a  hand  stuck  as  full 
as  a  pin-cushion  with  glistening  spines,  which  the 
beast  had  planted  with  a  lightning-like  flirt  of  its 
tail.  I  thought  I  heard  the  old  codger  chuckle  in 
unison  with  my  laughing  sympathy  as  I  pulled  the 
prickles  out  of  the  smarting  hand,  but  it  lay  still 
and  kept  its  tender  nose  well  out  of  the  reach  of  a 
club.  We  had  no  wish  to  kill  it,  however,  but 
wanted  to  learn  more  of  the  creature's  skill  with 
the  broadsword,  and  taking  a  stick,  gently  touched 
the  tail  again.  It  responded  by  a  sideways  jerk  of 
surprising  quickness  and  force,  knocking  the  stick 
aside  and  dropping  a  few  quills ;  but  it  did  not 
hurl  its  whole  body,  as  Audubon  describes ;  nor 
did  the  caudal  spines  themselves  rattle  loudly,  as 
the  longer  ones  of  the  European  species  do. 

A  brief  quotation  from  Darwin's  book  on  "  Ex- 
pression "  will  describe  this  peculiarity  of  the  Old 
World  porcupine  to  the  best  advantage : 

"  Porcupines  rattle  their  quills  and  vibrate  their 
tails  when  angered ;  and  one  behaved  in  this  man- 
ner when  a  live  snake  was  placed  in  the  compart- 
ment. The  quills  on  the  tail  are  very  different 
from  those  on  the  body;  they  are  short,  hollow, 
thin  like  a  goose-quill,  with  their  ends  transversely 
truncated,  so  that  they  are  open ;  they  are  sup- 
ported on  long,  thin,  elastic  foot-stalks.  Now 
when  the  tail  is  rapidly  shaken,  these  hollow  quills 


vn  A    WOODLAND    CODGER  193 

strike  against  each  other  and  produce  ...  a  pe- 
culiar continuous  sound.  We  can,  I  think,  under- 
stand why  porcupines  have  been  thus  provided, 
through  the  modification  of  their  protective  spines, 
with  this  special,  sound-producing  instrument. 
They  are  nocturnal  animals,  and  if  they  scented 
or  heard  a  prowling  beast  of  prey,  it  would  be  a 
great  advantage  to  them,  in  the  dark,  to  give  warn- 
ing to  their  enemy  what  they  were  and  that  they 
were  furnished  with  dangerous  spines." 

One  now  sees  how  aptly  the  fellow  is  named 
"porcupine,"  —  a  corruption  of  the  Old  French 
words  pore  espin,  meaning  "spiny  pig."  This,  in 
fact,  seems  to  have  been  the  original  import  of 
the  Latin  hystrix,  —  the  family  name,  derived 
from  a  Greek  compound  noun  signifying  "  hairy 
pig."  The  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and  Italians  use 
substantially  the  same  term,  while  the  German 
nations  have  translated  it  into  stachelschwein, 
stekel-vark,  etc.,  meaning  "  stickle-hog."  The 
early  English  spellings  and  quaint  variants,  such 
as  porcupig,  forkentine,  purpentine,  and  the  like 
are  innumerable.  Buff  on' s  term,  I'urson,  was  a 
rather  fantastic  figment,  intended  to  indicate  by 
the  first  syllable  that  it  resembled  a  bear's  cub, 
and,  by  the  second,  to  remind  one  that  its  home 
was  about  the  bay  of  Hudson,  for  whom  Buffon 
professed  great  admiration. 

The  porcupine  is  a  denizen  of  the  woods  and 
rarely  leaves  them  for  the  farmers'  fields,  while 


194  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

it  is  unknown  on  Western  prairies,  though  in  the 
Southwest  the  Pacific  Coast  species  is  sometimes 
seen  far  from  the  sparse  groves  along  the  rivers. 
In  spite  of  senseless  persecution,  it  is  still  com- 
mon throughout  the  Northeastern  States  and  Can- 
ada, wherever  forests  remain,  and  in  favorable 
districts  has  really  increased  of  late.  In  such 
places,  the  lumberman  or  fisherman,  camping  in 
some  glade,  is  sure  to  be  visited  by  these  guests, 
who  come  blundering  about  his  quarters  at  mid- 
night, nosing  around  the  doorway  for  something 
to  eat,  and  if  he  is  sleeping  in  a  tent,  often  get- 
ting entangled  in  the  guy-ropes  or  making  general 
trouble  by  an  attempt  to  push  their  way  under  the 
canvas.  Mr.  E.  P.  Bicknell  relates  that  when  he 
was  encamped  on  the  summit  of  Slide  Mountain, 
the  loftiest  in  the  Catskills,  in  1882,  his  cabin  was 
besieged  by  porcupines  all  night  long,  and  that 
"their  dark  forms  could  be  seen  moving  about 
among  the  shadows  in  the  moonlight,  while  their 
sharp  cries  and  often  low  conversational  chatter, 
singularly  like  the  voices  of  infants,  were  weird 
interruptions  of  the  midnight  silence."  Mr.  Bick- 
nell adds  that  their  temerity  seemed  natural  fool- 
ishness rather  than  courage,  and  that  it  was 
impossible  to  drive  them  out  of  the  camp  for  any 
length  of  time ;  even  when  one  had  been  shot, 
while  trying  to  bore  its  way  into  the  tent,  another 
repeated  the  attempt  beside  the  dead  body  of  its 
companion.  Their  great  love  of  salt  is  probably 


viz  A    WOODLAND    CODGER  195 

the  special  attraction  that  brings  them  to  camps, 
where  the  scraps  of  bacon-rind  and  table-crumbs 
would  be  tidbits  of  the  highest  excellence  in  their 
estimation.  It  appears  to  be  extremely  fond  of 
sweets,  also,  gnawing  old  sugar-barrels  and  maple- 
sugar  utensils,  and  being  especially  fond  of  maple 
bark.  A.  Leith  Adams,  the  author  of  "  Field  and 
Forest  Rambles"  (in  New  Brunswick),  informs 
us  that  they  eat  the  tips  of  the  cast  antlers  of 
deer,  which  are  rarely  found  unharmed  by  their 
incisors;  and  he  also  mentions  the  extraordinary 
size  of  their  ordure,  which  is  often  mistaken  for 
that  of  deer. 

The  porcupine's  natural  food,  however,  is  vege- 
table, and  mainly  bark  and  browse,  in  search  of 
which  it  spends  most  of  its  time  in  trees,  although 
seemingly  as  awkwardly  built  and  accoutred  for 
such  a  life  as  well  could  be ;  but  the  toes  have 
very  long  and  strong  claws,  good  for  clinging. 
It  is  true,  however,  that  our  Northern  species  pur- 
sues an  arboreal  life  much  less  exclusively  than  do 
the  tropical  American  species,  being  intermediate 
in  habits  as  well  as  structure  between  the  Old 
World  terrestrial  species  and  the  South  American 
tree-porcupines. 

These  tree-porcupines  (genus  Synetheres),  of 
which  eight  or  ten  species  are  spread  from 
Mexico  to  Paraguay,  are  far  better  fitted  for 
climbing,  and  are  almost  exclusively  arboreal. 
They  are  smaller  and  lighter  than  the  Canada 


196  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  vn 

porcupine,  have,  short,  close,  many-colored  spines, 
and  a  long,  tapering,  distinctly  prehensile  tail, 
that  forms  a  fifth  hand  equal  to  that  of  the 
monkey  or  opossum.  The  soles  of  their  feet, 
too,  are  provided  with  a  peculiar  fleshy  pad  on 
the  inner  side,  "between  which  and  the  toes 
boughs  and  other  objects  can  be  firmly  grasped." 
Two  of  them  —  the  couiy  and  the  coendou  —  are 
familiar  to  the  people  of  Guiana,  Brazil,  and 
Bolivia;  and,  in  the  former,  the  spines  —  which 
may  be  erected  —  are  ordinarily  covered  by  long 
gray  hairs,  which,  we  are  told,  effectually  conceal 
the  animal  from  the  notice  of  predatory  birds, 
as  it  lies  asleep  during  the  day,  heaped  up  in  an 
indistinguishable  mass  in  the  fork  of  some  moss- 
draped  tree.  Of  the  coendou,  in  the  island  of 
Trinidad,  a  curious  fact  is  recorded  by  Mr.  Frank 
M.  Chapman,  Bulletin  Am.  Mus.  Nat.  Hist.,  Vol.  V, 
p.  227,  as  follows : 

"The  presence  of  this  arboreal  species  [Syne- 
theres  prehensilis\  is  made  known  by  the  nauseat- 
ing odor  it  gives  forth.  This  is  especially  noticeable 
in  the  early  morning  when  the  air  is  humid  and 
before  the  daily  trade-winds  begin  to  blow.  In 
walking  through  the  forests  at  this  time,  it  was  not 
unusual  to  encounter  odoriferous  strata  of  air  pro- 
ceeding from  individuals  of  this  species.  So  dense, 
however,  was  the  parasitic  vegetation  on  the  trees 
in  which  they  conceal  themselves,  that  they  were 
practically  invisible  from  below. 


197 


CHAP,  vii  A    WOODLAND    CODGER  199 

Whether  suited  or  unsuited  to  the  life,  the 
Northern  porcupine  spends  much  of  his  time  aloft, 
sometimes  remaining  for  weeks  in  a  single  big  tree, 
usually  a  hemlock.  Curled  up  in  some  deep  fork 
or  hollow,  he  dozes  away  the  daylight,  and  at  night 
feeds  upon  twigs  and  leaves.  Beginning  at  the 
topmost  spray,  he  will  gnaw  and  clip  away  every 
bit  of  fresh  bark,  sprouting  twig  and  leaf,  and 
circle  regularly  downward,  taking  each  branch  in 
succession  out  to  its  very  tip,  despite  his  weight 
and  awkwardness,  by  pulling  the  outermost  twigs 
within  reach  of  his  orange  teeth,  and  continuing 
until  the  whole  tree  has  been  despoiled  of  every 
edible  particle.  Then,  having  literally  eaten  him- 
self out  of  house  and  home,  he  chooses  another  tree 
and  repeats  the  process.  Sometimes  he  knows  of 
better  quarters  in  some  hollow  close  by,  and  goes 
and  comes  nightly ;  but  having  found  a  tree-pasture 
to  his  purpose,  he  rarely  leaves  it  until  it  has  been 
denuded.  This  is  more  true  of  the  winter,  how- 
ever, than  the  summer,  for  the  animal  does  not 
hibernate,  though  spells  of  extremest  cold  render 
him  temporarily  inactive.  Hearne  says  that  in 
the  far  North  the  Indians  frequently  leave  them 
in  a  tree  "till  a  more  convenient  season,"  con- 
fident that  when  they  want  them  they  can  find 
them.  The  species  inhabits  British  America  and 
Alaska  as  far  north  as  the  forests  extend. 

Yet  they  travel  about  somewhat,  as  is  betrayed 
by  their  baby-like  footprints.  They  are  flat-footed 


200  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

or  plantigrade,  like  a  bear,  and  the  soles  are  naked, 
but  along  their  sides  and  between  the  toes  grows 
a  thick  fringe  of  long  coarse  hair,  which  acts  like 
snow-shoes  in  sustaining  the  animal's  weight  on  the 
snow,  in  which  its  low-hung  body  leaves  a  deep  rut 
as  it  tramps  along.  The  hemlock,  sugar-maple, 
basswood,  ash,  and  slippery  elm  in  the  East,  and 
in  the  West  the  cottonwood,  are  its  favorites,  these 
having  a  thick,  juicy  underbark.  Its  depredations 
occasionally  kill  trees,  especially  its  habit  of  girdling 
them,  but  the  total  of  damage  in  this  way  is  tri- 
fling. Sometimes,  in  winter,  it  invades  the  orchard 
and  gnaws  the  bark  from  young  orchard  trees  or 
despoils  a  nursery,  but  the  harm  thus  done  is 
never  very  great. 

In  summer  the  porcupine  wanders  more  widely 
and  enjoys  a  more  varied  fare,  eating  young  leaves 
and  buds  of  shrubs,  herbage,  and  many  roots  and 
vegetables.  Dr.  Merriam  mentions  their  fond- 
ness for  lily-pads  in  the  Adirondacks  and  tells  us 
that  they  sometimes  quarrel  for  possession  of  a 
stranded  log  by  which  these  dainties  may  be 
reached,  snarling,  growling,  and  pushing  one  an- 
other away  or  even  into  the  water,  but  not  biting, 
although  their  great  front  teeth  might  inflict  seri- 
ous wounds.  In  the  fall,  mast,  and  especially 
beechnuts,  forms  a  staple  article  of  diet,  as  with 
other  large  rodents.  He  is  fond  of  apples,  Indian 
corn,  etc.,  which  he  eats  sitting  up  on  his  haunches, 
holding  the  morsel  up  to  his  mouth  like  a  squirrel. 


vii  A    WOODLAND    CODGER  2OI 

The  animal  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  a  home ; 
but  he  uses  a  hollow  tree  as  a  tenement,  or  even  a 
hole  among  the  rocks.  As  warm  weather  ap- 
proaches, the  female  produces  two  or  three  young, 
which,  according  to  Dr.  Merriam,  are  monstrous 
for  the  size  of  the  mother.  They  are  actually 
larger,  he  assures  us,  and  relatively  more  than 
thirty  times  larger,  than  the  young  of  the  black  bear 
at  birth.  The  female  has  four  pectoral  mammae. 

Their  flesh  is  eaten  by  the  Indians,  but  has 
never  been  liked  by  white  men.  The  use  of  the 
quills  in  ornamentation  by  our  Indians  is  well 
known,  robes,  garments,  moccasins,  belts,  pouches, 
weapon-cases,  baskets,  and  everything  else  being 
ornamented  with  them  by  the  squaws  with  great 
skill  and  often  with  truly  artistic  effect;  but  as 
usual  the  earliest  methods  and  patterns,  when  the 
Indians  used  their  own  delicate  dyes  and  sinew 
threads,  were  much  better  than  is  seen  in  these 
days  of  aniline  colors  and  crude  imitations  of  the 
white  man's  art.  The  application  may  be  made  in 
any  of  three  or  four  ways,  as,  by  weaving  or  sew- 
ing the  quill  into  the  texture  of  the  object  itself ; 
by  winding  it  transversely  about  the  thread  that 
forms  the  applique  pattern  ;  by  interweaving  it 
with  the  strands  of  a  basket  or  lashing ;  or  by  glu- 
ing it  upon  the  surface.  The  native  South  Amer- 
icans did  not  practise  this  art,  although  they  made 
a  somewhat  similar  use  of  bird-quills,  as,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  not  done  in  the  northern  continent. 


202  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

No  similar  utilization  seems  to  have  been  made 
of  the  quills  of  the  European  porcupine,  although 
the  longest  ones  are  turned  into  fancy  penholders ; 
and  in  India  and  Malaya  they  weave  little  baskets, 
etc.,  out  of  them,  which  are  often  as  pretty  as  they 
are  strange. 

Reviewing  its  narrow  life,  the  strongest  impres- 
sion left  upon  one's  mind  seems  to  be  that  of  the 
creature's  sluggishness  and  stupidity.  These  are 
perhaps  concomitants,  if  not  consequences,  of  its 
strictly  vegetarian  life,  in  which  its  tastes  are  so 
simple  that  it  rarely  seems  to  have  to  make  the 
least  exertion  for  food  at  any  season  of  the  year ; 
and  of  a  highly  protected  condition,  which  makes 
it  careless  of  danger,  and  hence  unvigilant  and 
steadily  inclined  to  sluggishness  of  mirid  as  well  as 
of  body.  It  is  not  well  for  an  animal  to  be  too 
safe  or  too  comfortable,  for  its  mind  grows  rusty 
with  disuse,  or,  if  it  never  had  use,  lies  inert  and 
the  whole  creature  exists  on  a  low  plane.  I  do  not 
know  another  animal  of  the  American  woods  that 
is  so  well  off  and  so  uninteresting  as  the  Canada 
porcupine. 

The  porcupines  are  the  central  figures  in  a  group 
of  rodents,  called  after  them  Hystricomorpha. 
This  group  is  one  of  the  sections  of  the  suborder 
of  Simplicidentates,  which  have  only  two  upper 
teeth  (incisors)  in  front,  instead  of  four,  as  in  the 
picas  and  rabbits  (Duplicidentates) ;  and  it  con- 
tains eight  families,  some  of  which  are  extinct, 


A    WOODLAND   CODGER 


203 


including  many  rat-like  animals,  small  and  large, 
some  belonging  to  North  Africa,  but  mostly  South 
American. 

In  many  members  of  this  group  the  hair  has  a 
peculiar  sharpness,  with  more  or  less  intermixture 
of  stiff  prickly  hairs,  becoming  quills  in  the  most 
typical ;  while  others,  as  the  chinchilla  and  coypu, 
are  noted  for  the  extreme  softness  of  their  fur, 
making  it  valuable  in  trade. 

The  central  family  is  that  of  the  porcupines 
(Hystricidae),  long  ago  divided  into  two  branches : 
—  the  synetherine,  or  New  World  arboreal  porcu- 
pines, and  the  hystricinine,  or  Old  World  terres- 
trial porcupines ;  but  this  division  is  made  on 
anatomical  grounds,  not  upon  difference  of  habitat 
or  habits,  to  which  the  classifiers  are  more  blind 
than  is  always  well  for  the  stability  of  their  work. 
To  the  former  branch  belong  our  subject  and  its 
South  American  cousins,  the  tree-porcupines ;  to  the 
latter,  the  common  European  porcupine. 

Of  the  last  named  (Hystrix  cristata)  a  brief 
account  by  W.  S.  Dallas  may  be  useful  for  pur- 
poses of  comparison  with  the  characteristics  of  the 
American  form. 

"The  head,  shoulders,  limbs,  and  under  parts 
are  clothed  with  short  spines  intermixed  with  hairs 
usually  of  a  dusky  or  brownish  black  hue ;  the 
neck  is  marked  with  a  whitish  collar;  from  the 
back  of  the  head  and  neck  there  arises  a  great 
crest  of  long  bristles,  many  of  them  fifteen  or  six- 
teen inches  in  length,  which  can  be  elevated  and 


2O4  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

depressed  at  the  pleasure  of  the  animal,  are  gen- 
tly curved  backwards,  and  are  either  dusky  with 
the  extremities  white,  or  whitish  throughout;  the 
hinder  portion  of  the  body  is  entirely  covered  by 
a  great  number  of  long  sharp  spines,  ringed  with 
black  and  white,  but  always  having  the  extremities 
white.  These  spines  vary  considerably  in  size, 
some  of  them  being  very  long  (fifteen  or  sixteen 
inches),  comparatively  slender  and  flexible ;  others 
shorter  (from  six  to  twelve  inches),  but  much 
stouter.  .  .  .  The  porcupine  lives  in  holes  among 
the  rocks,  or  in  a  burrow,  which  he  makes  for 
himself  in  ordinary  ground.  In  this  retreat  he 
passes  the  day  in  sleep,  coming  forth  in  the  even- 
ing in  search  of  food,  which  consists  of  herbage 
of  various  kinds,  fruits,  roots,  and  the  bark  and 
leaves  of  trees  and  bushes.  He  is  slow  in  his 
movements,  and  does  not  even  display  much  ac- 
tivity in  burrowing.  His  habits  are  solitary,  ex- 
cept during  the  pairing-season;  and  during  the 
winter  he  passes  most  of  his  time  in  his  habitation, 
without,  however,  falling  into  a  torpid  state.  The 
pairing  takes  place  early  in  the  year,  .  .  .  and  in 
the  spring  or  early  summer  the  female  produces 
from  two  to  four  young  in  a  nest  carefully  lined 
with  leaves,  grasses,  roots,  and  other  vegetables. 
The  young  porcupines  are  born  with  their  eyes 
open,  and  their  bodies  are  covered  with  short 
soft  spines,  which  are  pressed  close  to  the  body. 
These  speedily  harden  and  grow  longer,  and  the 
young  do  not  appear  to  remain  very  long  with 
their  mother.  The  flesh  ...  is  eaten  in  the 
countries  where  the  animal  occurs.  When  pur- 
sued or  irritated,  he  stands  on  the  defensive,  erects 
his  formidable  quills  and  crest,  stamps  on  the 


VII  A    WOODLAND   CODGER  2O5 

ground  with  his  hind  feet,  after  the  manner  of  a 
hare,  jerks  himself  toward  the  object  of  his  dread, 
as  if  to  wound  it  with  his  spines,  and  at  the  same 
time  produces  a  curious  noise,  by  rattling  the  open 
quills  of  the  tip  of  his  tail." 

This  animal  is  still  fairly  numerous  in  Greece, 
Italy,  and  Sicily,  and  formerly  ranged  throughout 
Southern  Europe;  south  of  the  Mediterranean  it 
extends  from  Tunis  to  Morocco,  and  southward 
into  the  Soudan.  A  closely  similar  species  takes 
the  place  of  this  one  in  Syria,  and  ranges  thence 
eastward  to  India,  where  it  injures  tank-walls  by 
its  burrowing,  and  often  destroys  vegetable  crops : 
hunting  it  with  dogs  is  a  favorite  sport  in  the  hill- 
regions.  Four  or  five  smaller  species,  without 
nuchal  crests,  inhabit  northeast  India  and  the 
Malayan  coasts  and  islands ;  and  fossil  species  of 
Hystrix  belong  to  the  upper  Tertiary  rocks  of 
both  Asia  and  Europe.  South  Africa  has  also  a 
local  kind  of  porcupine.  Lastly,  mention  must 
be  made  of  the  brush-tailed  porcupines,  of  the 
genus  Atherura,  two  species  of  which  are  found 
in  the  Malayan  region,  and  one  in  West  Africa ; 
they  are  smaller  than  the  foregoing,  and  rejoice  in 
long  tails  tipped  with  a  bunch  of  peculiar  flattened 
scales.  A  still  more  specialized  form  inhabits 
Borneo.  Such  are  the  Old  World  representatives 
of  the  tribe ;  and  they  differ  from  their  New  World 
cousins  more  in  anatomical  peculiarities  and  an 
indisposition  to  climb  trees  than  in  anything  else. 


206  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP.VH 

Our  common  porcupine  of  the  eastern  United 
States  and  Canada  (Erethizon  dorsatus)  once 
ranged  over  all  the  forested  parts  of  the  country 
north  of  Virginia  and  Kentucky ;  it  seems  to  reach 
northward  nearly  or  quite  to  the  limit  of  forest- 
growth,  having  been  reported  from  the  Mackenzie 
valley.  Along  the  Missouri  River  it  mingles  spar- 
ingly with  a  second,  Western  species,  the  yellow- 
haired  (Erethizon  epixanthus\  which  ranges  across 
the  Plains  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  to  all 
parts  of  the  Pacific  Coast  southward  as  far  as  the 
Mexican  border.  Godman,  Audubon,  and  the  older 
writers,  so  far  as  they  spoke  of  this  latter  animal 
at  all,  confused  it  with  the  Eastern  form. 


VIII 

THE   SKUNK,    CALMLY   CONSIDERED 

THE  skunk  is  among  the  handsomest  animals 
in  the  fields,  and  carries  himself  with  an  air  of 
genteel  leisure,  while  he  makes  no  effort  to  hide 
himself  from  our  admiration.  He  is  not  much 
given  to  going  abroad  in  daylight,  though  I  have 
seen  him  at  high  noon ;  but  more  frequently  you 
meet  him  at  twilight,  when  he  is  little  disposed  to 
make  way  for  you.  "I  have  come  near  stepping 
upon  him,"  exclaims  Mr.  Burroughs,  "and  was 
much  the  more  disturbed  of  the  two."  If  you  pay 
no  attention  to  him,  he  will  pass,  or  let  you  pass, 
in  dignified  indifference,  going  about  his  business ; 
but  if  you  try  to  stop  him,  or  follow  so  inquisi- 
tively as  to  alarm  him,  he  will  make  ready  to  re- 
sent it;  and,  as  the  Greeks  were  to  be  dreaded 
when  bearing  gifts,  so  this  foe  is  most  to  be  feared 
when  it  turns  tail  to  the  enemy. 

Here  we  are,  right  at  the  start,  as  is  inevitable ! 

When  the  word  "  skunk  "  is  mentioned,  the  first 

thought   in  every  one's  mind   is  of   the   animal's 

extraordinary  ability  in  getting   himself   into  bad 

odor.     Let  us  take  up  this  matter  of  the  skunk's 

P  209 


2IO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

fetid  discharge  at  once,  therefore,  and  have  done 
with  it. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  musky 
secretions,  more  or  less  intense  in  their  nauseating 
effect  on  the  human  nostrils,  are  characteristic  of 
the  whole  tribe  to  which  the  skunk  belongs, — 
the  Mustelidae.  To  this  tribe  belong  the  Euro- 
pean polecat,  the  mink, — whose  discharges,  when 
excited,  are  far  more  disgusting  than  anything  the 
skunk  utters,  —  and  various  other  evil-smelling  fur- 
bearers,  while  to  the  closely  related  badger  family 
belong  not  only  our  own  far  from  fragrant  badger, 
but  also  the  stinking-badger  or  teledu  of  the  East 
Indies,  the  honey-badgers  of  South  Africa,  and 
the  wolverine.  Of  this  company,  —  so  abominable 
when  considered  from  this  single  point  of  view, 
— the  skunk  is  by  no  means  the  worst,  although 
none  equals  him  in  the  power  of  disseminating 
the  perfume,  nor  in  its  copiousness.  The  Yan- 
kees call  him  an  "  essence  pedler." 

In  the  skunk,  the  fetid  material  is  contained 
in  two  capsules  embedded  in  the  muscles  beneath 
the  root  of  the  tail,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
intestinal  outlet,  into  which,  just  within  the  anus, 
they  open  by  little  nipples  perforated  by  fine 
ducts ;  another  longer  duct  leads  into  each  of 
them  from  absorbent  vessels  situated  deeper 
in  the  body.  These  glandular  capsules  are  not 
larger  than  peas,  and  are  enclosed  in  a  thick 
envelope  of  muscles,  which,  when  suddenly  and 


via  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         211 

forcibly  contracted  by  the  animal,  convert  the 
capsule,  duct,  and  nipple  into  a  syringe,  forcing 
its  contents  out  in  a  thin  spurt  or  double  jet, 
which  may  reach  more  than  a  dozen  feet. 
Whether  it  is  possible  for  the  animal  to  dis- 
charge one  barrel  of  his  weapon  and  reserve 
the  other,  I  do  not  know,  but  I  should  think 
it  likely.  The  liquid  is  clear  yellow  in  color,  and 
somewhat  phosphorescent,  so  as  to  be  faintly  vis- 
ible in  the  dark ;  it  is  intensely  acid  in  its  chem- 
ical reaction,  and  virulently  acrid  toward  any 
mucous  or  tender  surface  upon  which  it  falls. 
This,  together  with  its  extreme  volatility  and 
offensive  odor,  makes  it  almost  suffocating  when 
inhaled  in  any  considerable  amount,  and,  in  ex- 
cess, it  may  produce  unconsciousness  (anaesthesia) 
accompanied  by  difficult  breathing  and  even  fatal 
results.  The  odor  has  the  quality  of  musk,  as, 
indeed,  do  nearly  all  animal  discharges  of  this 
nature,  whether  they  come  from  deer,  civets, 
musteline  animals,  or  reptiles ;  and,  when  per- 
ceived and  calmly  considered  at  a  reasonable  dis- 
tance, it  is  by  no  means  unendurable,  having  a 
pungent  and,  perhaps,  disagreeable,  but  not  an 
unwholesome  smell.  The  nose  is  pained  and 
offended  rather  than  disgusted.  The  liquid  also 
resembles  musk  in  its  extraordinary  volatility. 
The  total  discharge  is  really  a  very  small  quan- 
tity,—  scarcely  more  than  a  large  drop,  —  yet  it 
will  perfume  the  air  for  a  mile  in  every  direction 


212  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

in  favorable  weather,  or  even  more,  if  we  may 
trust  many  accounts;  and  the  minutest  particle 
sprayed  upon  one's  clothes  will  make  them 
entirely  unwearable.  Its  persistence  is  equally 
remarkable  and  embarrassing.  No  amount  of 
washing  or  disinfection,  short  of  destroying  the 
fibre  of  the  cloth,  suffices  to  eradicate  the  taint. 
Burying  them  for  any  practicable  time  is  of  no 
use,  for  even  if  the  garments  seem  at  first  to  be 
free,  heat  will  bring  back  strong  reminders  of  the 
wearer's  unsavory  experience.  Where  chloride  of 
lime  can  be  used,  the  smell  can  be  destroyed,  but 
otherwise  time  alone  will  rid  one  of  its  presence. 

The  Indians  of  the  Upper  Columbia  valley, 
by  the  way,  tell  a  quaint  legend  of  the  origin 
of  this  savory  characteristic  of  our  subject.  A 
few  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Spokane  River, 
the  banks  become  rocky  walls  and  are  strangely 
broken.  "The  rocks  take  all  imaginable  forms, 
showing  up  as  pinnacles,  terraces,  perpendicular 
bluffs,  devils'-slides,  and  giants'  causeways,  —  the 
whole  forming  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  grand- 
est sights  in  the  universe."  Among  these  is  a 
grayish-white  cone,  about  five  hundred  feet  high, 
which  is  a  noted  landmark,  and  concerning  which 
the  Indians  have  a  legend,  of  which  the  skunk 
is  the  hero.  It  has  been  written  down  in  his 
report  upon  the  navigation  of  the  Upper  Colum- 
bia, made  to  the  War  Department  by  Lieutenant 
Thomas  W.  Symons,  U.S.A.,  as  follows: 


vin  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         21$ 

"  It  would  seem  that  in  the  long  ago  a  skunk, 
a  coyote,  and  a  rattlesnake  each  had  a  farm  on  top 
of  the  Whitestone.  Those  were  the  days  before 
the  skunk  was  as  odorous  as  he  is  now,  but  was 
esteemed  a  good  fellow  and  pleasant  companion  by 
other  animals.  As  in  some  other  small  communi- 
ties, jealousies,  dissensions,  and  intrigues  arose  in 
this  one.  The  result  was  that  the  coyote  and 
the  rattlesnake  took  a  mean  advantage  of  the 
skunk  one  night  when  he  was  asleep,  and  threw 
him  off  the  rock,  away  down  into  the  river.  He 
was  not  drowned,  however,  but  floated  on  and  on, 
far  away  to  the  south  and  west,  until  he  came  to 
the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  lived  a  great  medi- 
cine man  and  magician.  To  him  the  skunk 
applied,  and  was  fitted  out  with  an  apparatus 
warranted  to  give  immunity  from  and  conquest 
over  all  his  enemies.  Back  he  journeyed  along 
the  river  to  his  old  home,  where  he  arrived,  much 
to  the  surprise  of  the  coyote  and  rattlesnake,  and 
commenced  to  make  it  so  pleasant  for  them  with 
his  pungent  perfumery  apparatus,  the  gift  of  the 
magician,  that  they  soon  left  him  in  undisputed 
possession  of  his  rocky  home,  which  he  has  main- 
tained ever  since." 

It  is  not  surprising  to  find  that  this  powerful 
secretion  has  a  marked  effect  upon  our  eyes  and 
air-passages  whenever  it  comes  into  contact  with 
them.  When  shot  into  the  eye,  as  has  often  hap- 
pened, intense  pain  and  acute  inflammation  (con- 


214  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  vm 

junctivis)  follow,  and  have  been  known  to  produce 
blindness  in  a  few  cases,  though  usually  the  injury 
disappears  in  a  week  or  ten  days.  The  effect  upon 
the  throat  and  lungs  of  inhaling  any  considerable 
quantity  of  this  substance  long  ago  suggested  its 
value  as  a  specific  "  in  certain  spasmodic  affections 
of  the  air-passages,  such  as  asthma,  hooping-cough, 
and  asthmatic  croup,"  but  it  must  be  used  with 
caution,  if  at  all,  since  more  than  one  sufferer, 
while  confessing  the  relief  given,  has  abandoned  the 
remedy  as  worse  than  the  ailment.  Audubon  and 
Bachman  tell  a  funny  story  of  how  an  asthmatic 
preacher  emptied  his  church  one  morning  by  at- 
tempting to  take  a  sniff  of  the  medicine  in  the  pul- 
pit, and  somehow  losing  control  of  the  stopper  of 
the  vial.  A  sequel  of  this  benefit  from  the  gland- 
substance  has  been  the  application  of  the  oil  from 
the  fat  of  the  animal  to  the  relief  of  similar  ail- 
ments, without  any  real  effect,  of  course. 

Dogs  howl  with  pain  when  they  get  a  charge 
full  in  the  face,  and  rush  anywhere  in  evident 
agony,  plunging  their  noses  into  the  dust,  drag- 
ging their  faces  against  the  ground,  and  showing 
every  sign  of  intense  pain.  It  is  doubtful  whether 
the  vileness  (to  us)  of  the  odor  has  much  to  do 
with  their  distress  ;  but  this  point,  and  its  bearings 
on  the  question  of  the  value  of  this  discharge  as  a 
means  of  defence,  will  be  considered  hereafter. 

The  animal  makes  use  of  its  artillery  by  turning 
its  stern  toward  the  enemy,  elevating  its  tail,  and 


SKULL  OF  A  SKUNK. 
Natural  size.  After 
Baird. 


216 


CHAP,  viii     THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED      2I/ 

raising  one  of  its  hind  legs.  Its  aim  is  taken  with 
the  utmost  accuracy,  and  it  can  repeat  the  dis- 
charge several  times,  having  a  magazine  gun  at 
command.  A  simple  surgical  operation,  if  made 
by  intelligent  hands,  will  extract  these  glands,  or 
cut  the  duct  leading  from  the  capsule  to  the  nipple- 
like  orifice,  after  which  the  animal  is  powerless  for 
harm,  —  a  precaution  highly  judicious  in  the  case 
of  a  domesticated  example  of  this  species,  if  one 
values  his  peace  of  mind  ! 

Having  thus  rendered  our  subject  innocuous,  we 
may  now  proceed  to  study  him,  for  he  is  one  of  the 
prettiest  and  most  interesting  of  all  our  wild  ani- 
mals. 

The  skunk  is  about  the  size  of  a  cat,  but  has 
more  nearly  the  shape  of  a  raccoon,  being  taller 
behind  than  about  the  fore  quarters,  and  with  a 
pointed,  somewhat  pig-like  snout ;  this  form,  and 
his  plantigrade  feet,  account  for  that  mincing  gait 
characteristic  of  him.  His  fur  is  long,  thick,  and 
glossy  black  variegated  with  pure  white.  The 
white  runs  in  a  narrow  stripe  up  the  nose,  expands 
behind  the  ears  into  a  saddle-like  patch  on  the 
nape  of  the  neck,  then  narrows  backward  over  the 
shoulder,  and  there  divides,  a  stripe  curving  back- 
ward and  downward  on  each  side,  leaving  an  in- 
tensely black,  wedge-shaped  tract  between  them, 
continued  over  the  upper  surface  of  the  bushy 
tail.  The  under  surface  and  tip  of  the  tail  are  also 
white.  This  is  the  common  Northern  kind.  His 


2l8  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Southern  relatives  are  also  black  and  white,  but 
differently  marked.  All  the  skunks  form,  a  con- 
spicuous exception  to  the  prevalent  rule  among 
mammals  that  those  parts  of  the  body  next  the 
ground  are  light,  the  belly  and  limbs  here  being 
invariably  dark  colored.  Thoreau  pictures  the 
animal  neatly  in  a  June  memorandum  : 

"  Saw  a  little  skunk  coming  up  the  river  bank  in 
the  woods  at  the  white  oak,  a  funny  little  fellow, 
about  six  inches  long  and  nearly  as  broad.  It 
faced  me  and  actually  compelled  me  to  retreat 
before  it  for  five  minutes.  Perhaps  I  was  between 
it  and  its  hole.  Its  broad  black  tail,  tipped  with 
white,  was  erect  like  a  kitten's.  It  had  what 
looked  like  a  broad  white  band  drawn  tight  across 
its  forehead  or  top-head,  from  which  two  lines  of 
white  ran  down,  one  on  each  side  of  its  back,  and 
there  was  a  narrow  white  line  down  its  snout.  It 
raised  its  back,  sometimes  ran  a  few  feet  forward, 
sometimes  backward,  and  repeatedly  turned  its  tail 
to  me,  prepared  to  discharge  its  fluid,  like  the  old 
ones.  Such  was  its  instinct,  and  all  the  while  it 
kept  up  a  fine  grunting  like  a  little  pig  or  a  red 
squirrel." 

This  resemblance  to  a  fluffy-tailed  black  and 
white  kitten  has  played  the  mischief  with  many 
kind-hearted  but  unsophisticated  persons,  —  a  reac- 
tionary sort  of  mimicry  that  it  would  puzzle  Dar- 
winians to  explain,  I  fear.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
these  youngsters  are  much  more  to  be  dreaded 


vin  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         2ig 

than  an  old  skunk,  who  will  not  waste  his  precious 
ammunition  until  he  has  exhausted  every  "  bluff  " 
he  can  practise. 

This  composure  in  the  presence  of  mankind, 
from  whom  nearly  all  wild  animals  shrink  and  flee, 
has  always  been  ascribed  to  the  creature's  confi- 
dence in  his  means  of  self-defence,  which  grows 
upon  him  with  experience,  and  inculcates  a  temer- 
ity in  the  face  of  danger  that  often  misleads  to 
his  destruction.  Even  in  the  skunk  discretion  is 
usually  the  better  part  of  valor  :  as  it  certainly  is  as 
opposed  to  him.  Whether  or  not  the  explanation 
is  good,  he  is  certainly  fearless  and  often  serene 
in  the  midst  of  danger ;  he  will  not  trouble  him- 
self to  move  out  of  the  way  of  a  wagon  fast  enough 
to  save  being  run  over;  and  half  the  time  will 
come  inquisitively  toward  you,  when  you  meet  him, 
instead  of  running  away. 

One  effect  of  this  audacity  has  been  the  ten- 
dency of  skunks  to  cultivate  acquaintance  with 
humanity  as  fast  as  the  country  was  settled,  —  in 
fact,  before  that,  for  they  haunted  Indian  camps, 
no  doubt,  in  the  primitive  East  as  they  do  to-day  in 
the  far  West.  Originally  they  possessed  the  whole 
of  temperate  North  America,  reached  northward 
as  far  as  the  Barren  Grounds  in  the  interior,  and 
in  Alaska  to  the  lower  Yukon  valley  ;  while  south- 
ward they  penetrated  Mexico,  although  that  un- 
happy country  and  its  neighboring  parts  of  the 
United  States  have  several  smaller,  but  sufficiently 


220  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

effective,  species  of  their  own.  As  to  details  he 
is  indifferent,  —  forest  or  prairie,  open  plain  or 
rugged  mountain,  seeming  all  the  same  to  his 
catholic  taste  in  geography.  If  he  exercises  any 
preference,  it  is  for  high,  dry,  rocky  situations  for 
his  particular  residence,  as  opposed  to  waterside 
haunts  chosen  by  his  cousin  the  mink;  in  this 
respect  he  inclines  more  to  the  ways  of  the  badger, 
to  which  he  is  so  closely  allied.  Almost  every- 
where, moreover,  he  is  seen  in  greater  numbers 
around  settlements  and  camps  than  in  the  utter 
wilderness ;  and  there  are  few  rural  districts  where 
this  animal  is  probably  not  quite  as  numerous 
to-day  as  he  was  a  century  or  two  centuries  ago. 
It  is  equally  indifferent  to  climate.  The  snows 
of  the  North,  the  rainy  districts  of  Puget  Sound, 
the  Atlantic  coast  and  Alaska,  the  aridity  of  the 
high  plains,  are  borne  with  equal  patience ;  and 
everywhere  it  is  resident.  It  never  runs  away 
from  bad  weather,  any  more  than  from  sentient 
enemies.  In  the  far  North,  it  hibernates  several 
months;  on  the  Canadian  border,  this  hiemal 
slumber  lasts  only  for  some  weeks,  with  more 
or  less  frequent  emergences  during  intervals  of 
moderation ;  in  the  central  and  southerly  parts 
of  the  United  States,  it  does  not  "hole  up"  at 
all.  The  Canadian  Indians  called  March  the 
"skunk  moon,"  because  then  the  animal  began 
to  appear  in  some  numbers,  as  they  knew  by 
the  frequency  of  his  diagonally  placed  footprints 


viii  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         221 

in   the   snow, — the   feet   stepping   at   equal    dis- 
tances apart  and  in  advance,  —  thus : 


Dwelling  under  such  varied  conditions,  it  is 
not  surprising  to  find  it  making  its  home  in  a 
variety  of  tenements.  Its  fore  feet  are  armed 
with  long  and  strong  claws,  so  that  it  is  able 
to  dig  well,  and  it  habitually  excavates  burrows 
in  light  soil.  On  the  prairies,  as  Kennicott  ascer- 
tained, they  are  five  to  ten  feet  long  and  a  foot 
or  so  below  the  surface ;  but  sizes  vary.  At  the 
innermost  end  is  hollowed  out  a  chamber  well 
bedded  with  grass.  In  the  high  Western  moun- 
tains and  other  rocky  places,  it  usually  takes 
possession  of  a  crevice ;  and  hollow  trees  and 
stumps  are  now  and  then  adopted  as  homesteads. 
Burroughs  says  it  appropriates  woodchuck-holes 
in  New  York  State ;  and,  in  New  England,  stone 
walls  often  form  part,  at  least,  of  the  shelter 
needed  for  its  den.  Lastly,  it  has  adopted  every- 
where the  uncomfortable  habit  of  seeking  a  lodg- 
ing beneath  the  houses  and  barns  of  farmers  and 
ranchmen,  making  its  presence  known  sooner  or 
later  during  the  winter  by  a  stench  that  compels 
the  landlord  to  evict  the  intruder  straightway. 

Dr.  Elliott  Coues  avers  that  this  stench  is  the 
result  of  the  necessity  the  animal  feels  to  evacu- 
ate his  scent-glands  from  time  to  time,  when  they 
are  not  emptied  by  some  provoked  discharge,  and 


222  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

that  the  hibernating  animal  is  occasionally  aroused 
from  his  torpidity  to  relieve  his  physical  uneasiness 
in  this  respect.  Dr.  C.  C.  Abbott  agrees  with  him 
as  to  the  necessity  of  occasional  relief,  but  says 
that  a  series  of  observations  in  1872  led  him  to 
believe  that  this  forced  discharge  was  made  by  the 
skunk  into  a  hole  dug  for  the  purpose,  where  it 
was  carefully  covered  over.  This  strikes  me  as  a 
credible,  and,  indeed,  very  natural  example  of  pru- 
dence on  the  part  of  the  animal  (which  must  fully 
understand  what  an  advertisement  of  its  presence 
to  its  enemies  the  effluvium  would  be),  closely  com- 
parable with  the  covering  of  its  excrement  prac- 
tised by  so  many  wild  animals,  —  an  act  doubtless 
precautionary  against  pursuit.  In  winter,  however, 
the  frozen  ground  would  prevent  doing  this,  or,  at 
any  rate,  prevent  doing  it  well.  Certainly  skunk 
dens  are  rarely  any  more  offensive  to  the  nose  than 
is  the  home  of  a  weasel  or  marten. 

He  is  a  persistent  digger,  and  delights  to  scratch 
holes  in  ploughed  fields,  where,  if  he  is  alarmed,  he 
will  bury  himself  out  of  sight  with  amazing  rapid- 
ity, and  then  may  push  his  way  through  the  light 
earth  for  several  yards  before  he  comes  to  the  sur- 
face again.  Another  cunning  trick  he  has,  when 
trying  to  escape  from  a  dog  that  is  not  right  at  his 
heels,  is  to  climb  upon  a  rail  fence  and  walk  along 
its  top  for  a  considerable  distance,  so  as  to  break 
the  scent  of  his  trail ;  but  any  further  climbing 
than  this  seems  beyond  his  ability,  so  that  the 


viii  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         223 

picture  illustrating,  otherwise  admirably,  the  biog- 
raphy of  our  subject  in  the  ninth  edition  of  the 
"  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,"  where  two  examples 
are  shown  in  the  tops  of  tall  trees,  is  something 
to  smile  at. 

In  the  burrow  or  other  den,  where  a  large  bed 
of  grass  and  leaves  is  arranged,  a  litter  of  six  to 
ten  young  ones  is  produced  in  summer.  These 
remain  in  and  about  the  underground  premises 
until  the  next  season,  and  by  the  end  of  the  winter 
most  of  them  have  grown  to  the  same  size  and 
appearance  as  the  old  ones.  It  was  probably 
the  digging  out  of  single  large  and  well-grown 
families  supposed  to  be  collections  of  unrelated 
adult  individuals,  that  give  rise  to  the  wrong  state- 
ment found  in  many  early  writings  that  the  species 
is  gregarious.  They  seem  to  be  more  prolific  than 
any  other  of  the  Mustelidae. 

Young  skunks,  when  taken  early,  make  pretty 
and  interesting  pets.  This  was  learned  from  the 
Indians,  and  they  have  been  tamed  and  enjoyed 
by  many  persons  notwithstanding,  as  Godman  puts 
it,  that  "  such  a  pet  requires  very  cautious  manage- 
ment." No  one  has  had  so  much  experience,  or 
has  so  well  recorded  it,  in  this  direction,  as  Dr. 
Merriam,  whose  home  was  formerly  in  the  south- 
ern Adirondacks,  where  he  made  good  use  of 
many  opportunities  to  study  this  creature.  He 
declares  that  as  pets  skunks  are  attractive  in  ap- 
pearance, gentle,  cleanly,  playful,  and  sometimes 


224  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

manifest  considerable  affection  for  those  who  have 
the  care  of  them.  He  says  : 

"  From  some  I  removed  the  scent-bags,  but  the 
greater  number  were  left  in  a  state  of  nature. 
None  ever  emitted  any  odor,  although  a  couple 
of  them,  when  half-grown,  used  to  assume  a  pain- 
fully suggestive  attitude  on  the  too  near  approach 
of  strangers.  .  .  .  These  same  skunks,  when  I 
came  within  reach,  would  climb  up  my  legs  and 
get  into  my  arms.  They  liked  to  be  caressed  and 
never  offered  to  bite." 

One  particularly  clever  youngster  the  Doctor 
named  Meph,  and  used  to  carry  asleep  in  his  coat- 
pocket  while  driving  about  the  country  on  his 
daily  professional  errands.  "  After  supper,"  he 
writes,1  "  I  commonly  took  a  walk,  and  he  always 
followed,  close  at  my  heels.  If  I  chanced  to  walk 
too  fast  for  him,  he  would  scold  and  stamp  with 
his  fore  feet,  and  if  I  persisted  in  keeping  too 
far  ahead  would  turn  about,  disgusted,  and  make 
off  in  an  opposite  direction ;  but  if  I  stopped  and 
called  him,  he  would  hurry  along  at  a  sort  of  am- 
bling pace,  and  soon  overtake  me.  He  was  par- 
ticularly fond  of  ladies,  and  I  think  it  was  the 
dress  that  attracted  him ;  but  be  this  as  it  may,  he 
would  invariably  leave  me  to  follow  any  lady  that 
chanced  to  come  near. 

"  We  used  to  walk  through  the  woods  to  a  large 

1  In  the  Transactions  of  the  Linnean  Society  of  New  York, 
Vol.  I,  December,  1882,  p.  74. 


vni  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED        22$ 

meadow  that  abounded  in  grasshoppers.  Here 
Meph  would  fairly  revel  in  his  favorite  food,  and 
it  was  rich  sport  to  watch  his  manoeuvres.  When 
a  grasshopper  jumped  he  jumped,  and  I  have  seen 
him  with  as  many  as  three  in  his  mouth,  and  two 
under  his  fore  paws,  at  one  time !  He  would  eat 
so  many  that  his  over-distended  little  belly  actually 
dragged  upon  the  ground,  and  when  so  full  that 
he  could  hold  no  more,  would  still  catch  and  slay 
them.  When  so  small  that  he  could  scarcely  tod- 
dle about  he  never  hesitated  to  tackle  the  large 
and  powerful  beetle  known  as  the  'horned  bug/ 
and  got  many  smart  nips  for  his  audacity.  But 
he  was  a  courageous  little  fellow,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  he  learned  to  handle  them  with  im- 
punity, and  it  was  very  amusing  to  see  him  kill 
one.  Ere  many  weeks  he  ventured  to  attack  a 
mouse,  and  the  ferocity  displayed  in  its  destruc- 
tion was  truly  astonishing.  He  devoured  the  en- 
tire body  of  his  victim,  and  growled  and  stamped 
his  feet  if  any  one  came  near  before  his  repast  was 
over." 

This  matter  of  growling  and  stamping  is  worth 
a  moment's  attention.  Few  animals  are  so  silent 
as  the  skunk.  Zoological  works  contain  no  in- 
formation as  to  its  voice,  and  the  essayists  rarely 
mention  it  except  by  implication.  Mr.  Burroughs 
says  :  "  The  most  silent  creature  known  to  me,  he 
makes  no  sound,  so  far  as  I  have  observed,  save 
a  diffuse,  impatient  noise,  like  that  produced  by 
Q 


226  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

beating  your  hand  with  a  whisk-broom,  when  the 
farm-dog  has  discovered  his  retreat  in  the  stone 
fence."  Rowland  Robinson  tells  us  that:  "The 
voiceless  creature  sometimes  .  .  .  frightens  the 
belated  farm-boy,  whom  he  curiously  follows  with 
a  mysterious  hollow  beating  of  his  feet  upon  the 
ground."  Thoreau,  as  has  been  mentioned,  heard 
one  keep  up  a  "  fine  grunting,  like  a  little  pig  or  a 
squirrel";  but  he  seems  to  have  misunderstood 
altogether  a  singular  loud  patting  sound  heard 
repeatedly  on  the  frozen  ground  under  the  wall, 
which  he  also  listened  to,  for  he  thought  it  "had  to 
do  with  getting  its  food,  patting  the  earth  to  get 
the  insects  or  worms."  Probably  he  would  have 
omitted  this  guess  if  he  could  have  edited  his 
diary  instead  of  leaving  that  to  be  done  after  his 
death.  The  patting  is  evidently  merely  a  nervous 
sign  of  impatience  or  apprehension,  similar  to  the 
well-known  stamping  with  the  hind  feet  indulged 
in  by  rabbits,  —  in  this  case  probably  a  menace 
like  a  doubling  of  the  fists,  as  the  hind  legs,  with 
which  they  kick,  are  their  only  weapons.  The 
skunk,  then,  is  not  voiceless,  but  its  voice  is  weak 
and  querulous,  and  it  is  rarely  if  ever  heard  ex- 
cept in  the  expression  of  anger.  But  I  wish  to 
quote  a  few  more  sentences  from  Dr.  Merriam's 
story  of  his  pet  Meph : 

"  His  nest  was  in  a  box  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
and  before  he  grew  strong  enough  to  climb  out  by 
himself  he  would,  whenever  he  heard  me  coming, 


vni  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         22/ 

stand  on  his  hind  legs  with  his  paws  resting  on 
the  edge  of  the  box,  and  beg  to  be  carried  up 
stairs.  If  I  passed  by  without  appearing  to  notice 
him,  he  invariably  became  much  enraged  and  chip- 
pered  and  scolded  away  at  a  great  rate,  stamping, 
meanwhile,  most  vehemently.  ...  He  was  very 
sprightly  and  frolicsome,  and  used  to  hop  about 
the  floor  and  run  from  room  to  room  in  search  of 
something  to  play  with.  .  .  .  During  the  evening 
he  occasionally  assumed  a  cunning  mood,  and 
would  steal  softly  up  to  my  chair,  and  standing 
erect  would  claw  at  my  pants  once  or  twice,  and 
then  scamper  off  as  fast  as  his  little  legs  could 
carry  him,  evidently  anxious  to  have  me  give 
chase.  If  I  refused  to  follow,  he  was  soon  back, 
ready  to  try  some  new  scheme  to  attract  my 
attention." 

The  food  of  the  skunks  is  wholly  of  animal  ori- 
gin, and  I  have  never  known  or  heard  of  one  eat- 
ing anything  vegetable.  The  staple  of  their  fare 
in  summer  is  insects  of  every  sort,  mainly  beetles, 
grasshoppers,  and  the  like,  for  they  do  not  seem 
to  care  to  unearth  worms  and  grubs  to  any  great 
extent.  Thoreau  remarks  ("  Early  Spring  in  Mas- 
sachusetts," p.  105):  "It  has  a  remarkably  long, 
narrow,  pointed  head  and  [flesh-colored]  snout, 
which  enable  it  to  make  those  deep  narrow  holes 
in  the  earth  by  which  it  probes  for  insects."  This 
is  news.  The  snout  is  exceedingly  pig-like  —  a 
fact  especially  noticeable  when  a  carcass  has  been 


228  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

skinned,  and  it  is  no  doubt  serviceable  in  rooting, 
and  in  crowding  through  the  loose  earth  in  which 
the  animal  sometimes  hastily  buries  itself ;  but  that 
it  is  used  for  rooting  or  boring,  woodcock-fashion, 
after  subterranean  insects,  I  am  not  otherwise  in- 
formed. The  number  of  insects  a  single  one  will 
destroy,  between  his  appetite  and  his  love  of  play, 
is  enormous ;  and  almost  every  one  of  them  is 
injurious  to  grain,  vegetable,  or  fruit  crops.  Of  so 
much  value  to  the  hop-grower  in  particular  are 
his  services,  that  efforts  were  made  some  years 
ago  in  New  York  State  to  have  him  brought  under 
protection  of  the  game-laws.  The  facts  brought 
forward  then  (and  since)  show  that  his  value  in 
ridding  fields,  gardens,  and  granaries  of  vermin 
compensated,  a  hundred  times  over,  the  occasional 
harm  he  does  in  the  poultry-yard;  but  the  preju- 
dices of  short-sighted  farmers  and  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  fur-trapper^  defeated  this  beneficent 
measure. 

Next  to  insects  he  probably  pursues  mice  with 
the  greatest  avidity  and  success.  The  enormous 
destruction  of  planted  seeds,  growing  and  ripening 
vegetables  and  grain,  as  well  as  of  stored  grain, 
accomplished  by  wild  mice,  in  all  parts  of  the 
country,  is  well  known  to  agriculturists,  who  ought 
to  welcome,  rather  than  do  their  best  to  extirpate, 
the  natural  enemies  of  these  persistent  and  rapidly 
multiplying  pests.  The  mice  alone  do  more  dam- 
age to  the  grain  and  fruit  growing  interests  of 


vni  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         2 29 

every  agricultural  district  in  the  Union,  each  year, 
than  all  the  chickens  and  eggs  raised  therein  are 
worth.  Yet  men  go  on  shooting  and  trapping 
their  would-be  allies,  and  thus  aiding  and  abetting 
their  enemies,  in  spite  of  all  the  facts  and  advice 
that  can  be  laid  before  them. 

Unable,  like  the  swift  and  supple  weasel,  to  run 
mice  down  or  follow  them  into  narrow  retreats,  — 
though  doubtless  he  pounces  upon  many,  —  the 
skunk  uses  his  strong  fore  claws  to  dig  them  out 
of  their  little  burrows  and  grassy  lodging-places ; 
and  it  is  the  search  for  this  prey,  mainly,  that  leads 
him  to  take  up  his  quarters  in  the  barns  and  out- 
houses of  a  farm,  where  he  often  inhabits  the  hay- 
mow, scrambling  even  to  the  top  of  it.  Unless  dis- 
turbed to  the  point  of  odorous  resistance  by  the 
dogs  —  oh,  that  American  farmers  would  kill  off 
the  host  of  curs  that  do  so  much  to  keep  them 
poor!  —  his  presence  would  scarcely  be  known, 
or  if  discovered  would  not  be  resented ;  and  hun- 
dreds, perhaps  thousands,  of  mice  would  be  killed 
or  driven  away  in  the  course  of  a  season.  The 
same  service  is  true  to  a  less  degree  in  the  West, 
by  reason  of  its  capture  of  the  destructive  striped 
gophers  and  small  prairie  spermophiles  there, 
while  even  rabbits  are  now  and  then  followed  and 
attacked,  sometimes  after  following  their  trail  a 
long  distance.  These  timid  animals  have  a  habit 
of  running  into  any  sort  of  a  hole,  and  frequently 
enter  one  at  the  other  end  of  which  dwells  a  skunk, 


230  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

fox,  or  badger,  which  makes  short  work  of  poor 
bunny,  and,  I  hope,  is  properly  grateful  to  the 
providence  that  thus  sends  a  meal  home  in  its 
original  package. 

Reptiles,  also,  form  a  share  of  the  skunk's  sub- 
sistence, —  toads,  frogs,  salmanders,  serpents,  and 
the  like.  Dr.  Abbott  says  that  the  skunks  in  New 
Jersey  are  very  partial  to  the  last-named.  "  When 
pressed  by  hunger,  and  hunting  by  daylight,"  he 
tells  us,  in  his  "  Rambles  about  Home,"  the  skunk 
prefers  to  go  after  snakes  rather  than  to  seek 
frogs  or  risk  himself  within  the  poultry-yard. 

"  Indeed,  small  snakes  are  evidently  a  great 
dainty,  and  the  skunk  appears  to  be  more  active 
when  he  finds  a  garter-snake,  blind-worm,  or  flat- 
head  adder,  than  at  any  other  time.  Having  dis- 
covered a  snake,  he  rises  upon  his  hind  feet,  and, 
giving  a  bear-like  apology  for  a  dance,  he  endeav- 
ors to  seize  the  snake  by  the  tail.  If  successful, 
he  shakes  the  snake  vigorously,  as  a  dog  would  do, 
and  seizing  it,  when  dead  or  nearly  so,  he  carries 
it  off  to  his  burrow,  or  to  a  hollow  log,  or  to  what- 
ever shelter  he  has  at  the  time." 

Of  this  behavior  Dr.  Abbott  cites  the  following 
remarkable  instance : 

"  In  June,  1863,  I  witnessed  a  terrific  combat  be- 
tween a  large  skunk  and  a  black  snake,  which,  I 
judge,  measured  fully  five  feet  in  length.  The 
prowling  skunk  had  evidently  seized  the  snake  by 
the  tail,  and  endeavored  to  give  it  a  violent  shake, 


viii  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         231 

as  it  would  a  little  garter-snake.  This  angered  the 
snake,  and,  turning  like  lightning,  he  wrapped 
himself  about  the  skunk,  completely  encircling 
both  neck  and  body.  The  head  was  so  far  free 
that  the  skunk  could  give  the  snake  nip  after  nip, 
though  it  could  not  get  a  strong  enough  hold  to 
disable  it.  Rolling  over  and  over,  hissing  and 
snapping,  the  snake  nearly  concealed  by  the  long 
hair  of  the  skunk,  the  two  creatures  presented  a 
strange  spectacle  as  they  struggled,  the  one  to 
conquer,  the  other  to  escape.  After  watching 
them  for  fully  five  minutes,  I  ventured  to  approach, 
and  dealt  the  two  a  hard  blow  with  a  club,  and 
then  ran  back  a  few  paces,  not  knowing  what 
might  be  the  result.  Turning  about,  I  ventured 
to  return  part  of  the  way,  to  see  whether  the 
struggle  continued.  All  was  comparatively  quiet, 
and  coming  still  nearer,  I  found  that  the  snake  had 
relinquished  his  hold,  and  was  slowly  retiring  in 
a  disabled  condition.  The  skunk  was  lying  quite 
motionless,  and  proved  to  be  dying,  though  not 
dead.  Soon  after,  I  examined  the  animal  carefully, 
and  found  that  it  had  been  strangled  or  nearly  so. 
During  this  combat  there  was  no  discharge  of  the 
defensive  glands  of  the  skunk." 

Unfortunately  the  skunk  has  also  a  strong  taste 
for  birds  and  birds'  eggs,  and  undoubtedly  de- 
stroys large  numbers  of  the  eggs  and  young  of 
ground-nesting  birds :  it  digs  up  and  eats  snakes' 
and  tortoises'  eggs.  Dr.  J.  K.  Lord,  whose  book 


232  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

"The  Naturalist  in  British  Columbia"  is  every- 
where interesting,  has  harsher  words  to  say  of  the 
skunk  in  that  part  of  the  world  than  the  animal 
seems  to  justify  elsewhere ;  but  this  may  be  dis- 
counted by  the  recollection  that  more  legitimate 
food  is  rather  scarce  along  the  western  part  of  the 
international  boundary,  where  Dr.  Lord  travelled. 
"  A  more  predatory,  thievish,  treacherous,  blood- 
thirsty poacher  you  could  not '  skeer  up,'  "  exclaims 
this  writer,  and  then  adds  novel  information,  as 
follows :  "  His  residence  (which  is  always  by  the 
side  of  some  still  pool  on  the  open  prairie)  consists 
of  a  large  hole,  dug  in  horizontally.  .  .  .  Beaten 
roads  extend  from  this  hole  to  the  water's  edge ; 
and  the  entrance  to  this  den  is  usually  strewed 
with  ducks'  feathers,  the  tips  of  the  wings,  the 
heads,  beaks,  and  feet,  together  with  bones  deftly 
picked.  Ducks  are  his  favorite  food.  .  .  .  When 
everything  is  still  and  hushed,  and  the  unsuspect- 
ing birds  are  floating  in  fancied  security,  with  their 
heads  tucked  under  their  wings,  then  out  steals 
the  crafty  skunk,  and  creeping  noiselessly  down 
his  roadways,  swims,  without  the  slightest  splash, 
towards  the  drowsy  birds,  dives  under  the  one 
that  suits  his  taste,  seizes  it  by  the  breast,  and 
spite  of  all  its  flapping,  quacking,  and  struggling, 
drags  the  victim  ashore,  kills,  and  eats  it." 

With  such  a  record  as  this  against  him  —  even 
in  isolated  cases  —  it  is  not  surprising  that  the 
skunk  should  now  and  then  play  havoc  in  the  hen- 


vni  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         233 

house.  "  He  is  a  confirmed  epicure,  and  at  plun- 
dering hen-roosts  an  expert,"  John  Burroughs  de- 
clares with  an  unction  born  of  bitter  experience : 
"Not  the  full-grown  fowls  are  his  victims,  but 
the  youngest,  most  tender.  At  night  Mother  Hen 
receives  under  her  maternal  wings  a  dozen  newly 
hatched  chickens,  and  with  much  pride  and  satis- 
faction feels  them  all  safely  tucked  away  in  her 
feathers.  In  the  morning  she  is  walking  about 
disconsolately,  attended  by  only  two  or  three. 
What  has  happened  ?  Where  are  they  gone  ? 
That  pickpocket,  Sir  Mephitis,  could  solve  the 
mystery.  Quietly  has  he  approached,  under  cover 
of  darkness,  and,  one  by  one,  relieved  her  of  her 
precious  charge.  Look  closely,  and  you  will  see 
their  little  yellow  legs  and  beaks  or  a  part  of  a 
mangled  form  lying  about  on  the  ground.  Or, 
before  the  hen  has  hatched,  he  may  find  her  out, 
and,  by  the  same  sleight  of  hand,  remove  every 

egg." 

This  is  sad ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  both  Dr. 
Lord  and  Mr.  Burroughs  have  let  fancy  run  away 
with  them,  and  that  such  delicate  knavery  is  more 
often  to  be  credited  to  the  artistic  touch  of  the 
mink  or  weasel.  The  skunk  is  no  fool,  and  may 
perhaps  be  cunning  enough,  but  he  is  too  careless 
and  bull-headed  to  do  his  work  with  the  neatness 
and  precaution  against  detection  implied  in  the 
operations  described  above.  He  goes  boldly  into 
the  roosting  flock  at  night  and  slashes  about  him 


234  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

with  the  carelessness  of  a  Musketeer  of  the  Guard; 
and  when  the  commotion  brings  the  farmer  and 
his  gun,  it  is  ten  to  one  whether  he  make  a  single 
intelligent  effort  to  get  away.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
roost-robbery  is  only  an  occasional  wickedness; 
or,  more  truly,  perhaps,  it  is  only  a  few  skunks  who 
adopt  the  habit  of  raiding  the  poultry-yard,  and  the 
total  of  his  depredations  does  not  amount  to  a  tithe 
of  the  return  he  makes  by  his  nocturnal  activity 
among  the  gophers,  mice,  and  injurious  insects. 
Moreover,  he  has  to  bear  the  blame  of  most  of 
the  misdeeds  of  the  more  stealthy  and  sagacious 
fox,  marten,  and  weasel. 

What  are  the  skunk's  natural  enemies  ?  Well, 
like  other  of  the  smaller  mammals,  he  must  suffer 
from  the  attacks  of  the  larger  ones,  though  it  is 
customary  to  assert  —  but  this  is  largely  an  assump- 
tion open  to  dispute  —  that  he  is  not  so  frequently 
seized  as  would  be  another  animal  equally  tooth- 
some and  incautious,  by  the  puma,  wild-cats,  wolves, 
and  large  hawks  and  owls,  all  of  which  do  some- 
times kill  and  eat  him.  He  must  now  and  then 
get  into  fatal  quarrels  with  the  fox,  badger,  fisher, 
mink,  and  other  weasels  with  which  he  comes  into 
competition  and  contact,  but  against  which  he  can 
make  a  pretty  nearly  equal  fight,  regardless  of  his 
quick-firing  battery. 

This  suggests  some  interesting  speculations  as 
to  the  actual  value  to  the  animal  of  its  peculiar 
defensive  armature.  One  would  think,  —  consider- 


WESTERN  SKUNK  PELTS. 

A  season's  catch  of  skins  by  two  young  trappers  in  southwestern  Kansas. 
Note  the  variety  in  the  markings  of  the  large  skunks,  especially  as  to  the 
amount  of  white  on  the  tail;  also  the  two  pelts,  in  the  lowest  row,  of  the  little 
spotted  skunk,  with  its  cross-barred  appearance.  Minks,  muskrats,  and  prairie 
hares  make  up  the  remainder  of  the  catch. 


vin  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         235 

ing  its  ability  to  adapt  itself  to  any  kind  of  country 
or  climate,  as  is  shown  by  its  almost  continental 
range;  recalling  the  wide  variety  and  plenty  of 
its  food,  not  to  speak  of  its  faculty  for  avoiding 
winter  scarcity  by  sleeping  its  want  away ;  and  re- 
membering the  character  of  its  anal  artillery, — 
one  would  think,  I  say,  that,  leaving  humanity  out 
of  the  question,  this  animal  had  practically  no  limit 
to  its  increase  and  longevity ;  and  when  one  adds 
to  this  the  fact  of  its  unusual  prolificacy,  it  is  sur- 
prising that  the  land  is  not  positively  overrun  with 
skunks.  Yet  there  never  seems  to  have  been  any 
disproportionate  abundance  of  them.  One  impor- 
tant check  to  their  multiplication  may  be  fatal  in- 
testinal parasites,  derived  from  their  prey,  but  these 
are  probably  no  more  injurious  to  this  carnivore 
than  to  many  others ;  and  the  wonder  grows,  — 
not  that  there  are  so  many  skunks,  but  that  there 
are  not  millions  more. 

If  Mr.  Wallace  and  his  friends  are  right,  the 
conspicuous  coloring  of  the  skunk  is  designed 
(in  a  Darwinian  sense)  as  a  "warning"  to  all 
and  sundry  in  the  forest  to  keep  their  distance. 
On  the  back  of  every  Northern  skunk  are  bold 
white  bands  and  patches  alternating  with  coal- 
black,  making  it  an  object  visible  and  attractive 
to  brute  curiosity  from  a  long  distance ;  but,  as 
if  to  increase  this  notoriety  to  its  utmost,  the 
animal  always  hoists  its  tail,  and  the  tip  of  it 
—  or,  in  some  species,  the  whole  of  this  pompon- 


236  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

like  appendage  —  is  glaring  white.  Conspicuous  ? 
You  can  see  it  bobbing  along  above  the  grass 
as  far  away  as  you  can  see  anything  of  its  size, 
and  know  that  "one  o'  thim  pesky  skoonks"  is 
wandering  through  the  meadow  when  his  body 
is  entirely  concealed.  So  strong  an  example  as 
this  has  been  quickly  seized  upon,  of  course,  by 
the  Darwinians  as  an  example  of  the  effect  of 
natural  selection  in  automatically  producing  ser- 
viceable colors ;  but  perhaps  the  display  does 
not  prove  as  useful  to  the  skunk's  welfare  as 
some  less  striking  pattern  would  be.  In  his 
highly  interesting  little  book  on  Nicaragua,  for 
example,  Belt  remarks  that  "at  night  the  skunk 
goes  leisurely  along,  holding  up  his  white  tail 
as  a  danger-flag  for  none  to  come  within  range 
of  his  dangerous  artillery";  and  adds:  "The 
animal  is  not  likely  to  be  pounced  upon  by  any 
of  the  carnivora  mistaking  it  for  other  night- 
roaming  animals." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  is  it  not  "  pounced 
upon "  quite  as  often  as  are  other  night-rovers  ? 
I  do  not  recall  at  the  moment  a  record  of  a 
puma  having  actually  been  known  to  have  killed 
a  skunk,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  this 
animal  or  the  lynx  or  common  wild-cat  would  hesi- 
tate to  strike  one  down  if  he  were  hungry,  —  as 
when"  is  he  not  ?  The  stealthy  approach,  sudden 
spring,  and  back-crushing  bite  of  one  of  these  or 
any  other  big  cat  would  be  a  method  of  attack 


vin  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY   CONSIDERED         237 

that  in  most  cases  would  give  the  artillerist  no 
opportunity  to  wheel  into  "action  front";  and, 
furthermore,  it  appears  that  when  a  close  and 
sudden  combat  occurs,  as  in  the  tussle  with  the 
snake  witnessed  by  Dr.  Abbott,  or  such  a  fight 
over  spoil  and  right  of  way  as  would  occur  in 
a  burrow  between  two  rival  skunks  or  a  com- 
peting mink  or  badger,  —  a  regular  teeth-and-toe- 
nail  scrimmage,  —  the  anal  glands  are  not  dis- 
charged. A  similar  restraint  would,  no  doubt,  in 
most  cases  attend  the  fierce  and  sudden  swoop 
of  an  owl,  hawk,  or  eagle,  —  birds  that  cause  the 
death  of  many  a  skunk  and  conepate.  If,  as  is 
true,  a  comparatively  slight  blow  across  the  small 
of  the  back  will  paralyze  and  render  powerless 
the  whole  hind  quarters  of  the  animal,  including 
the  gland-muscles,  the  deadly  clutch  of  a  heavy 
bird's  talons  are  likely  to  have  a  similar  effect. 
If  the  skunk  has  not  judgment  enough  to  let  a 
big  black  snake  alone,  as  we  have  seen,  probably 
he  must  often  (especially  in  the  West)  tackle  a 
rattlesnake  or  copperhead,  whose  prompt  turn 
and  poisonous  stroke  could  hardly  be  prevented 
by  any  discharge  of  the  glandular  liquid. 

(This  suggests  a  parenthetical  note  to  show  how 
these  two  creatures  must  sometimes  encounter  one 
another  under  undesired  circumstances.  The  rat- 
tling of  the  crotalus  is  wonderfully  similar  to  that 
of  a  grasshopper, — the  skunk's  favorite  tidbit; 
and  that  animal  may  occasionally  be  deceived  into 


238  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

running  heedlessly  upon  a  rattlesnake  when  it 
expected  to  pounce  upon  a  grasshopper.  A  fight 
might  ensue,  and  both  parties  might  be  fatally 
injured  before  explanations  could  be  given ;  but  a 
victory  would  be  of  no  value  to  the  reptile,  at  least, 
for  no  rattlesnake  could  get  even  a  half-grown 
skunk  down  its  throat.  In  such  a  situation  as 
this  the  alleged  "warning  rattle"  of  the  snake 
would  become  a  means  of  attraction  instead  of 
repulsion,  —  of  harm  rather  than  benefit.) 

There  remain  to  be  considered  only  foxes  and 
wolves  as  natural  enemies  of  the  skunk,  other  than 
men  and  their  dogs ;  and  as  these  alone  attack 
him  boldly  or  by  chase,  in  such  a  way  as  ordinarily 
to  inform  him  of  danger  in  time  to  defend  him- 
self, it  is  against  them  mainly  that  his  peculiar 
weapon  would  be  of  service.  Now  the  fox  is  so 
knowing,  so  sly  and  sagacious,  that  he  must  be 
fully  aware  of  what  to  expect,  and  take  such  pre- 
cautions against  harm  to  himself  as  distinguish 
him  elsewhere.  He  has  the  nature  of  a  dog,  but 
he  has  learned  the  strategy  of  the  cat,  and  we  are 
bound  to  believe,  from  what  we  know  of  his  cun- 
ning methods  in  respect  to  other  prey,  that  he 
takes  good  care  to  get  the  skunk  at  a  disadvantage 
before  he  attacks  it.  Evidence  of  this  is  afforded 
by  the  experience  of  trappers.  "To  the  fox- 
trapper,"  says  one  intelligent  writer  on  the  subject, 
"  this  animal  is  a  pest,  so  that  most  of  the  skunks 
of  the  neighborhood  must  be  caught  or  got  rid  of 


vin  THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         239 

before  success  with  the  foxes  begins.  A  slight 
compensation  is  made  by  the  fact  that  the  taint 
left  about  the  setting-place  attracts  more  foxes; 
and  trappers  know  that  skunk-flesh  is  their  best 
bait.  Sometimes  when  a  skunk  has  been  caught 
by  the  foot  he  will  free  himself  by  self-amputation. 
In  such  cases  "  they  seldom  get  in  a  second  time, 
as  in  their  weak  and  mutilated  condition  they  fall 
an  easy  prey  to  the  fox,  who  is  fond  of  their  flesh : 
so  much  so  that  he  will  sometimes  gnaw  off  the 
leg  by  which  the  skunk  is  held  in  the  trap,  and 
carry  off  his  booty  to  be  eaten  at  leisure." 

The  wolf,  on  the  other  hand,  from  indifference 
to  caution,  blind  ferocity,  and  pure  courage,  seems 
to  take  no  such  care.  He  knows  he  can  easily 
run  down  this  slow-footed  animal,  and  simply  rushes 
at  him  with  open  jaws.  If,  as  usually  happens, 
no  doubt,  he  gets  a  blast  which  burns  his  eyes  and 
mouth,  and  stifles  him  for  the  moment,  he  may 
halt,  but,  maddened  with  pain  and  rage,  will  rush 
again  at  the  little  animal  the  instant  he  recovers 
vision  and  breath,  and  make  mince-meat  of  it  in 
half  a  minute. 

That  this  picture  of  the  behavior  of  the  wolf  is 
substantially  accurate  is  shown  not  only  by  what 
we  actually  know  of  both  the  gray  wolf  and  coyote, 
but  by  the  behavior  of  dogs,  any  of  which  that 
have  any  hunt  in  them,  will  dash  at  a  skunk  with 
the  utmost  fury,  whenever  they  get  a  chance,  and 
without  an  instant's  hesitation.  If  the  little  beast 


24O  v        WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

sees  them  coming,  he  prepares  to  fire,  and  never 
fails  to  hit  his  mark.  "The  instant  a  dog  has 
received  a  discharge  of  this  kind  on  his  nose  and 
eyes,  he  appears  half  distracted,  plunging  his  nose 
into  the  earth,  rubbing  the  sides  of  his  face  on  the 
leaves  and  grass,  and  rolling  in  every  direction." 
So  says  Audubon ;  and  that  skunk  often  goes  free. 
But  this  authority  adds  that  the  same  dogs  do  not 
hesitate  to  attack  other  skunks  as  soon  after  as 
they  are  able,  and  this  despite  severe  punishments 
by  their  masters.  Many  other  experiences  to  the 
same  purport  might  be  quoted,  —  for  example,  the 
dog  of  Mr.  Fred  Mather,  long  a  Fish  Commis- 
sioner of  New  York,  which,  driven  back  in  his 
first  attack,  recovered  spirit  enough  in  a  few 
minutes  to  rush  in  with  streaming  eyes  and  demol- 
ish the  enemy ;  and  which  ever  afterward  killed 
skunks  with  his  eyes  shut! 

As  far  as  the  mere  stench  is  concerned,  I  doubt 
whether  that  deters  any  animals  from  attacking  or 
consuming  this  or  any  other  of  the  many  animals 
noxious  to  us  by  reason  of  their  musky  secretions. 
We  must  be  careful  not  to  impute  to  the  dogs, 
wolves,  etc.,  the  mental  or  physical  disgust  we  feel 
at  this  vile  odor.  The  fluid  itself  burns  their 
eyes,  nostrils,  and  throats,  but  the  smell  is  more 
likely  to  attract  than  offend  them ;  and  it  is  proba- 
bly the  instinctive  appreciation  of  this  which  leads 
the  skunk  to  take  the  greatest  care,  by  hoisting 
its  tail  and  spreading  its  haunches,  to  prevent  a 


vin  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         24! 

drop  falling  upon  its  own  fur.  Sometimes  the 
wind  blows  the  liquid  back ;  but  the  animal  never 
soils  itself  or  its  companions  or  its  bed  if  it  can 
avoid  it.  A  skunk's  den  is  as  nearly  odorless  as 
is  that  of  any  wild  musteline  animal.  Moreover, 
it  seems  to  regard  the  secretion  as  exceedingly 
precious,  and  not  to  be  used  except  as  a  very  last 
resort.  Many  a  dog  gets  a  good  grip  before  the 
emission  occurs,  and  under  those  circumstances 
it  is  likely  to  be  quite  wasted.  "  When  caught  in 
steel  traps,"  says  Merriam,  "not  more  than  one  in 
twenty  will  smell,  and  the  remaining  nineteen 
suffer  themselves  to  be  tormented  to  an  astonish- 
ing degree  before  'opening  the  valve.'"  Men 
who  make  a  business  of  trapping  and  breeding 
skunks  seem  to  have  little  fear  of  them  so  long 
as  they  approach  them  quietly  and  handle  them 
gently,  and  they  know  many  ways  of  putting  them 
to  death  without  causing  a  discharge. 

It  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that  as  a  weapon  of 
defence  the  discharge  of  the  skunk  is  not  as 
unfailing  and  complete  as  has  been  supposed ; 
that  as  many  active  enemies  seek  to  kill  the 
animal,  and  probably  succeed  in  killing  it,  as  if  it 
did  not  have  such  a  weapon ;  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  sometimes  serves  as  an  advertisement  of 
its  presence  and  leads  to  its  discovery  by  enemies 
that  might  otherwise  overlook  it ;  that  in  resisting 
the  tactics  of  certain  antagonists  this  "  weapon  " 
is,  as  a  rule,  practically  useless,  since  they  keep 


242  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

out  of  range,  and  in  respect  to  others  is  inadequate, 
since  it  often  causes  only  a  temporary  check  (which 
the  animal  is  too  slow  to  take  great  advantage  of), 
or  does  not  stop  the  onslaught  of  all ;  lastly,  it 
appears  that  the  animal  is  loth  to  make  use  of  the 
"weapon,"  and  often  delays  doing  so  until  it  is  too 
late.  It  remains  a  question,  therefore,  whether 
the  possession  of  this  ability  is  not  a  disadvan- 
tage rather  than  a  help  to  the  animal ;  and  whether 
in  the  process  of  development  the  influences  of 
natural  selection  have  not  freed  the  other  Mus- 
telidse  from  it,  as  an  incumbrance,  rather  than  have 
developed  it  to  a  high  degree  in  this  species  as 
an  advantageous  accessory. 

As  to  his  conspicuous  colors  and  ostentatious 
manner  of  cocking  up  his  white  plume  of  a  tail, 
these  seem  to  be  a  "warning"  only  to  civilized 
man,  and  even  to  him  a  signal  that  leads  more 
often  than  otherwise  to  the  animal's  premature 
discovery  and  death;  while,  if  the  statements 
above  written  are  true,  this  indiscreet  display  of 
himself  only  shows  the  big  cats,  the  wolves,  birds 
of  prey,  and  the  farmer's  dog,  where  their  quarry 
is,  and  enables  them  to  plan  an  attack  before  they 
themselves  have  been  observed. 

The  skunk  is  coming  to  be  considered  more 
and  more  valuable  as  a  fur-bearer ;  and  his  coat, 
cleansed  of  any  possible  odor,  dyed  a  uniform 
black,  and  made  up  into  garments,  clothes  many 
a  fair  maid  who  is  told  she  wears  "Alaska  sable." 


vin  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         243 

It  is  sable  only  in  artificial  hue,  and  probably  came 
from  Connecticut ;  but  it  is  a  good,  warm,  hand- 
some fur  for  all  that,  and  there  is  no  occasion  to 
gird  at  its  real  origin.  It  seems  to  me  that  the 
use  of  the  skins  without  dyeing,  employing  their 
natural  contrast  of  white  and  black,  might  serve 
admirably  in  certain  goods,  as  robes ;  but  this  is 
rarely  if  ever  seen.  If  the  reason  is  that  the  prej- 
udice against  the  name  is  too  great  to  be  over- 
come with  the  average  purchaser,  several  better 
euphemisms  than  the  false  and  meaningless 
"  Alaska  sable  "  might  have  been  chosen  by  the 
furriers.  Nobody  knows  the  source  of  the  word 
skunk,  but  it  is  probably  an  early  Canadian  French- 
English  shortening  and  corruption  of  the  Abenaki 
Indian  term  secancu  or  the  Huron  scangaresst. 
The  Crees  of  the  Canadian  Northwest  called  the 
animal  seecawk ;  but  a  better  trade  name  would 
have  been  ckinga,  by  which  the  animal  became 
known  to  the  early  European  naturalists  by  speci- 
mens from  French  sources  in  the  Mississippi 
valley. 

The  pelts  are  now  worth  from  fifty  cents  to  one 
dollar  and  a  half  to  the  trapper.  The  business  at 
best  is  not  one  calculated  to  make  the  practitioner 
popular  in  fastidious  society ;  and  reminds  one  of 
the  force  of  the  somewhat  coarse  maxim  formerly 
quoted  in  admonishing  a  person  not  to  spread 
abroad  home-scandals,  —  "  Let  every  man  skin 
his  own  skunk !  " 


244  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

The  oil  procured  by  boiling  the  bodies  of  skunks 
is  also  a  commodity  salable  to  druggists,  and  worth 
at  present  about  fifty  cents  a  pound  to  the  maker. 
The  demand  has  increased  of  late,  the  oil  (applied 
externally)  having  high  repute  as  a  relieving  agent 
in  diseases  of  the  chest  and  bronchial  tubes,  es- 
pecially croup,  for  which  it  has  been  a  household 
remedy  in  New  England  since  Colonial  days. 
There  is  no  reason  to  suppose,  however,  that  it 
has  any  medicinal  value  different  from  or  superior 
to  any  other  fine  animal  oil,  which  easily  penetrates 
the  pores  and  mollifies  and  lubricates  the  air-pas- 
sages ;  its  supposed  special  efficacy  in  bronchial  dis- 
orders is  doubtless  a  superstitious  transference  to 
the  oil  of  the  unquestioned  value  in  some  phases  of 
such  disorders  of  the  substance  of  the  scent-glands, 
—  a  remedy  based  upon  entirely  different  qualities 
and  effects  than  are  possessed  by  this  oil,  or  that 
of  the  rattlesnake  or  any  other  out-of-the-way  creat- 
ure, highly  regarded  in  "  old-woman  "  doctoring. 
When  relief  follows  an  application  it  may  be  con- 
sidered a  faith-cure,  in  so  far  as  any  particular 
effect  of  this  specific  kind  of  oil  is  concerned. 

However  this  may  be,  there  is  a  steady  demand 
for  the  commodity ;  and  as  a  fat  skunk  will  yield 
a  pound  and  a  half,  there  is  profit  in  making  it. 
Thus  the  systematic  catching  of  skunks  has  become 
a  regular  business  in  certain  regions,  where  they 
are  plentiful,  and  many  persons  are  engaged  in  it, 
particularly  in  Connecticut,  New  York,  and  Penn- 


vni  THE   SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED         245 

sylvania.  In  several  localities,  in  fact,  large  en. 
closures  have  been  set  apart  for  the  breeding  and 
rearing  of  these  animals  for  profit,  such  places 
being  known  as  "  skunkeries."  No  animal  is  more 
easily  trapped.  He  seems  to  be  stupid  beyond 
belief  in  this  respect,  and  will  walk  into  a  deadfall, 
or  step  into  a  spring-trap  or  get  himself  caught  in 
almost  any  simple  device  that  most  animals  would 
simply  laugh  at.  One  favorite  trick  is  to  climb 
into  a  barrel  that  he  knows  or  fancies  contains 
something  good  to  eat,  without  heeding  that  he 
cannot  climb  out  again.  Merriam  says  that  a 
steel  trap,  set  at  the  mouth  of  an  inhabited  burrow 
will  often  capture  the  entire  family  at  the  rate  of 
one  a  night.  "  In  winter  half  a  dozen  or  more 
may  sometimes  be  taken  in  a  single  night,  in  the 
following  manner:  the  hunter  treads  a  narrow 
path  in  the  snow,  leading  from  the  mouth  of  the 
hole  away  in  the  direction  of  some  favorite  resort, 
and,  at  intervals  along  this  path,  the  traps  are  set 
in  the  snow.  At  nightfall,  when  the  skunks  come 
out,  they  march,  single  file,  down  the  path,  the 
mother  usually  taking  the  lead.  The  head  one  is 
generally  caught  in  the  first  trap,  and  the  others 
climb  over  the  resulting  obstruction,  and  move  on 
till  a  second  is  taken,  and  a  third,  and  so  on." 

The  flesh  is  edible.  Not  only  were  the  Indians 
everywhere  fond  of  it,  but  most  white  men,  who 
have  been  able  to  forget  the  associations  of  the 
name,  agree  that  the  flesh  is  white,  tender,  juicy, 


246  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

and  as  good  as  suckling-pig,  which  it  resembles. 
This  of  course  implies  that  the  animal  has  been 
carefully  skinned  and  freed  from  its  glands.  The 
voyageurs  of  the  Northwest  were  accustomed  to 
skin  and  dissect  the  animal  under  running  water, 
which  rid  it  of  its  skunkiness ;  in  Nova  Scotia,  at 
the  other  end  of  the  continent,  the  Indians  ate  it 
without  minding  whether  it  was  tainted  or  not, 
according  to  Gilpin. 

One  topic  in  connection  with  this  subject  might 
be  debated  at  length  here,  did  it  seem  worth  while ; 
namely,  the  exhibition  of  rabies  in  the  skunk,  com- 
municating hydrophobia  to  any  human  being  bitten 
by  an  affected  animal.  Very  full  discussion  of  this 
may  be  found  in  the  "American  Journal  of  Science 
and  Art"1  for  May,  1874,  by  the  Rev.  H.  C.  Hovey ; 
and  this  has  been  extensively  quoted  and  com- 
mented upon  by  Dr.  Elliott  Coues  in  his  "  Fur- 
Bearing  Animals,"  by  William  A.  Baillie-Grohman 
in  his  "  Camps  in  the  Rockies,"  and  by  other 
competent  authorities,  so  that  the  facts  connected 
with  the  subject  are  accessible  to  most  readers. 
In  a  word,  the  occasional  appearance  of  rabies 
among  skunks  is  a  well-known  fact  in  all  parts  of 
the  country,  and  it  has  frequently  happened  that 
men  and  dogs  bitten  by  these  animals  have  subse- 
quently died  of  hydrophobia.  It  has  been  alleged 
that  this  was  a  disease  distinguished  as  mephitic 

i  Third  Aeries,  Vol.  VII,  No.  41,  Art.  XLIV,  pp.  477-483,  May, 
,1874- 


THE  SKUNK,  CALMLY  CONSIDERED 


247 


rabies,  independent  of  canine  rabies ;  while  others 
assert  that  it  is  simply  canine  madness  com- 
municated to  skunks  by  some  mad  dog,  fox,  or 
wolf,  and  thence  started  as  a  local  epidemic  among 
the  skunks  of  the  neighborhood.  My  own  view 
inclines  to  the  latter  opinion.  Certainly  the  bite 
of  a  skunk  is  ordinarily  no  more  to  be  feared  than 
that  of  any  other  wild  animal,  wounds  from  whose 
teeth  are  always  liable  to  be  followed  by  blood- 
poisoning  due  to  particles  of  corrupt  flesh  adher- 
ing to  the  teeth  and  left  in  the  wounds. 

What  has  been  said  in  all  the  foregoing  pages 
applies  to  skunks  in  general,  as  a  study  of  char- 
acter, habits,  and  qualities,  though  more  especially 
to  the  common  Northern  species  known  in  zoology 
as  Mephitis  mephitica.  In  the  southwestern  United 
States  and  northern  Mexico  two  other  very  similar 
species  are  distinguished, — Mephitis  macrura  and 
M.  estor.  In  addition  to  this  a  closely  allied 
group  of  skunks  inhabits  the  warmer  parts  of  the 
continent,  known  as  the  Little  Striped  Skunks, 
and  constituting  the  genus  Spilogale.  These  are 
decidedly  smaller  than  Mephitis,  and  instead  of  the 
two  more  or  less  broad  stripes  reaching  backward 
from  the  nape  of  the  neck  on  each  side  of  the 
spine  (their  shape  and  extent  is  very  variable), 
four  narrow  and  often  broken  and  irregular  white 
stripes  lie  upon  the  neck  and  shoulders,  while  the 
sides  and  rump  are  marked  by  transverse  curving 
lines  and  spots;  these  lines  are  subject  to  great 


248  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  vin 

variation,  and  often  are  broken  into  spots  and  bars, 
which  variegate  the  black  pelt  in  a  very  handsome 
way.  One  of  these  little  fellows  (Spilogale putorius) 
is  distributed  throughout  most  of  the  Southern 
States  and  the  whole  region  west  of  the  Missis- 
sippi River.  They  can  be  domesticated  like  the 
others ;  and  it  is  said  that  in  Florida  they  are 
sometimes  tamed  and  kept  about  the  house,  like 
cats,  on  account  of  their  usefulness  in  catching 
mice.  Several  other  species  of  Spilogale  are  found 
in  the  dry  region  stretching  from  Southern  Utah 
to  Central  Mexico.  Finally,  we  have,  in  Texas, 
and  thence  southward  throughout  Central  and 
South  America,  the  white-backed  skunk,  which 
the  aborigines  of  Mexico  called  conepate,  and 
naturalists  call  Conepatus  mapurito.  This  species 
is  rather  larger  than  the  common  skunk,  its  head 
is  narrower,  and  the  snout  more  pig-like,  and  bald 
and  callous  on  top,  as  if  used  to  much  rooting ;  while 
the  tail,  instead  of  being  a  long  plume,  is  a  short, 
stubby  brush.  In  color  it  is  black,  like  the  others ; 
but  instead  of  stripes  the  whole  back  is  white,  from 
the  forehead  to  and  including  the  tail,  giving  a  very 
striking  blanket-like  effect,  but  this  often  stops 
short  of  the  tail,  or  is  divided  by  a  narrow  black 
line  along  the  spine. 

An  excellent  account  of  these  southern  skunks 
may  be  read  in  Bailey's  "  Biological  Survey  of 
Texas,"  published  by  the  United  States  Depart- 
ment of  Agriculture,  in  1905,  as  No.  25  of  the 
North  American  Fauna. 


250 


IX 

A  NATURAL   NEW  ENGLANDER 

WHETHER  one  considers  the  woodchuck  in  its 
relation  to  New  England,  or  New  England  with 
reference  to  the  woodchuck,  the  singular  adaptabil- 
ity of  each  to  the  other  is  at  once  apparent.  It  is 
the  foremost  success  and  pride  of  the  Yankee  that 
he  uses  his  means  and  material  to  the  best  advan- 
tage, —  gets  the  utmost  effect  out  of  the  least 
expenditure.  It  is  the  boast  of  the  woodchuck 
that  he  has  reduced  the  life  of  a  quadruped  in  a 
northern  climate  to  its  lowest  terms,  and  takes 
less  trouble  and  worry,  in  the  course  of  a  fat  and 
happy  year,  than  any  other  beast  of  the  field. 

This  is  true,  and  he  and  the  Yankee  manage 
to  thrive  together,  coming  out  about  even  when 
the  books  are  annually  balanced  in  October.  Each 
reflects  upon  the  other's  qualities  with  growing 
respect,  while  separated  by  winter;  and  studies 
over  the  next  move  in  the  discussion  of  the 
question,  "  Who  owns  the  clover-patch  ?  "  Then, 
some  fine  spring  morning,  the  man  finds  only 
gnawed  stubs  in  the  place  of  certain  succulent 
young  vegetables  he  had  selfishly  saved  for  his 


2$2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

dinner,  shakes  his  fist  over  the  fence,  muttering 
"  Durn  that  'chuck ! "  whereupon  the  animal  sits 
up  peart,  as  every  independent  New  Englander 
has  a  right  to  do,  and  whistles  back :  "  Keep  cool ; 
your  old  lettuce  wasn't  much  good  anyhow ! " 

Surely  there  are  excellent  reasons  why  the 
animal  should  thrive  and  increase,  in  spite  of 
widening  civilization,  from  the  Housatonic  to  the 
St.  Croix,  and  from  Lake  Champlain  to  Cape  Cod, 
for  not  only  the  physical  conditions,  but  the  mental 
and  moral  atmosphere,  of  New  England  suit  him. 
He  approves  of  Yankee  institutions,  and  does  his 
best  to  fall  in  with  them  and  be  pleasant  about  it. 
It  is  therefore  disheartening  that  he  is  often  mis- 
understood. He  has  broad  views  of  hospitality, 
for  example,  and  it  pains  him  to  find  himself 
unwelcome  in  the  farmer's  garden,  —  positively  in 
peril  of  violence,  sometimes,  —  when  he  himself 
is  entirely  willing  that  his  human  neighbors  should 
visit  his  meadow  and  clover-field,  and  even  carry 
away  as  much  of  the  crop  as  they  like,  since  the 
good  Lord  has  sent  enough  for  all. 

Other  slight  misunderstandings  exist ;  but,  on 
the  whole,  the  two  New  Englanders  differ  more  in 
the  number  of  their  legs  than  in  anything  else,  — 
except,  perhaps,  in  views  as  to  the  object  of  life, 
which  is  not  a  matter  for  quarrelling  between 
friends.  Their  aims  are  substantially  the  same,  — 
in  a  word,  to  get  the  most  for  the  least ;  and,  on 
the  whole,  the  four-legged  one  seems  to  have. 


ix  A   NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  253 

attained  to  the  higher  success.  The  woodchuck 
manages,  for  instance,  to  shirk  the  tribulations  of 
winter  altogether,  yet  at  the  same  time  to  stay 
where  he  is,  and  to  stop  all  expenses.  Whenever 
the  Yankee  tries  to  do  that,  he  is  obliged  to 
undertake  a  toilsome  journey  and  double  his  ex- 
penditures. But  to  comprehend  the  nature  and 
appreciate  the  success  of  this  admirable  economist, 
we  must  acquaint  ourselves  with  his  ideals  and 
methods. 

The  woodchuck  is  born  in  humble  circumstances, 
as  one  of  four  or  five  equally  young  and  poor,  but 
honest,  brothers  and  sisters.  His  natal  chamber 
is  a  snug  room,  retired  some  three  feet  under 
ground,  and  his  birthday  is  never  far  from  the 
first  of  May.  It  is  not  only  well  for  a  little 
'chuck  to  start  with  regularity  upon  his  methodical 
career,  but  it  prevents  heartburning  and  strife 
to  have  all  the  youngsters  in  the  community  of 
practically  the  same  age;  it  also  facilitates  their 
education,  both  for  teachers  and  taught,  when  the 
whole  body  of  youth  can  progress  together  from 
the  kindergarten  to  commencement-day,  and  be 
graduated  en  masse.  The  concluding  studies,  no 
doubt,  are  practical  instructions  as  to  mining, 
courses  upon  the  avoidance  of  projectiles,  and 
tactics  of  warfare  with  dogs,  with  occasional  lect- 
ures upon  the  mechanics  of  traps  and  the  art  of 
tree-climbing.  Some  of  the  more  ambitious  even 
emulate  their  human  fellow  citizens  by  going  to 


254  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

college,  —  as  all  the  Wellesley  girls  of  a  few  years 
ago  are  able  to  testify,  regularly  joining  in  the 
morning  exercises  with  a  clear  soprano  from  the 
chapel  lawn. 

Within  a  very  few  days  the  little  ones  are  able 
to  stumble  down  the  long  hallway  that  leads  to 
their  castle-door,  and  to  open  their  brown  eyes 
upon  a  beautiful  green  world  preparing  to  greet 
the  coming  June.  The  breeze  comes  soft  and 
odorous  to  the  fresh  nostrils  that  snuff  it  up  like 
an  elixir,  shadows  are  trembling  upon  the  emerald, 
edible  sward,  and  an  infinitude  of  music  salutes 
the  small  ears  that  now  for  the  first  time  may  be 
opened,  since  there  is  no  longer  danger  of  dust 
falling  into  them.  Clinging  timorously  to  the 
brown  fur  of  the  mother,  they  trot  and  tumble 
after  her,  marvelling  at  everything,  and  halting  in 
wonder  as  with  every  few  steps  she  rears  herself 
upon  her  haunches  and  gazes  far  and  near  over 
the  heads  of  the  blossoming  grass.  Some  even 
try  to  imitate  her,  and,  until  they  tumble  backward, 
sit  up  with  head  on  one  side  and  ears  pricked, 
pretending  to  listen  most  intently.  By  and  by 
they  will  learn  to  discriminate,  among  the  confused 
murmurs  that  tremble  upon  their  ears,  those  that 
threaten  from  those  meaning  no  harm.  The 
farmer  will  tell  you  that  no  other  animal  has 
hearing  so  acute,  enabling  it  to  perceive  noises 
that  escape  his  notice  altogether ;  yet  their  ears 
are  small,  seem  muffled  in  fur,  and  may  be 


IX  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLAND ER  2$$ 

pressed  down,  dust-tight,  when  the  animal  is 
tunnelling. 

The  young  shoots  of  the  grasses  and  weeds 
smell  good,  and  the  cubs  exercise  their  white  new 
teeth  in  nibbling  these  a  little,  but  the  mother 
guides  them  on  further  to  a  treat  —  a  bunch  of 
plantain ;  and  there  they  get  their  first  out-door 
meal.  As  they  grow  older  they  learn  to  like  many 
different  vegetables,  but  never  lose  their  special 
fondness  for  the  juicy  plantain. 

Day  by  day  they  develop  in  size,  strength,  and 
accomplishments.  As  playful  as  other  youngsters, 
they  roll,  and  tumble,  and  chase  one  another,  but 
never  go  so  far  away  that  they  cannot  scuttle  back 
to  the  ancestral  burrow  the  instant  the  warning 
whistle  of  some  watchful  companion  tells  them  a 
boy,  or  dog,  or  other  dreaded  creature  is  coming. 
In  the  old  days,  before  the  Yankees  took  the 
trouble  to  "improve"  a  country  that,  in  some 
respects  at  least,  was  better  before  they  began, 
the  woodchucks  all  lived  in  the  woods  — 

"  As  their  name  implies,"  you  say  ? 

Hold  on  a  bit,  my  friend.  That  word  "wood- 
chuck  "  is  bad  English  for  a  half-forgotten  Indian 
term,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  "  woods  "  at  all. 
But  let  us  go  on. 

And  although  often,  doubtless,  they  sought  the 
grassy  glades  and  river-bottoms  for  food,  they 
were  not  tenants  of  the  open  country,  and  were 
scarcely  known  on  the  Western  prairies  until 


256  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

emigrants  settled  there,  planting  clover-fields  and 
garden-patches,  when  the  woodchucks  followed  to 
see  that  everything  was  right,  and  that  none  of 
the  good  things  should  be  wasted.  They  still 
make  their  winter  homes  more  often  in  the  woods, 
in  all  parts  of  the  country,  than  in  cleared  ground. 

Finding  an  abundance  to  eat,  and  being  eager 
to  fulfil  their  whole  duty  in  that  direction,  the 
young  ones  grow  rapidly,  and  carry  their  games 
farther  and  farther  afield.  Woodchucks  do  not 
dwell  in  companies,  nor  make  "  towns,"  like  their 
Western  cousins,  the  prairie-dogs ;  but  it  is  never 
far  to  a  neighbor's  hole,  visits  back  and  forth  soon 
become  frequent,  and  the  next  thing  one  knows 
the  youngsters  are  big  and  bold  enough  to  go 
wandering  off  by  themselves,  seeking  adventures 
and  often  finding  them. 

Now  is  the  time — in  these  long  midsummer 
days,  when  the  hay  is  ripening  and  garden-sauce  is 
at  its  best  —  when  that  old  quarrel  with  the  farmer 
begins,  because  he  will  not  take  their  view  of 
things.  The  woodchuck  can  no  more  see  the 
propriety  of  fencing  off  —  though  he  admits  that 
stone  walls  are  fine  refuges,  in  case  he  has  to  run 
for  it  —  a  space  of  the  very  finest  fodder,  than  the 
British  peasant  can  see  the  right  of  shutting  him  out 
of  a  grove  where  there  are  wild  rabbits,  or  forbid- 
ding him  to  fish  in  a  certain  stream.  So  he  climbs 
over,  or  digs  under,  or  creeps  through,  the  fence, 
and  makes  a  path  or  a  playground  for  himself 


ix  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  2$? 

amid  the  timothy  and  the  clover,  and  laughs,  as  he 
listens  from  a  hole  in  the  wall  or  under  a  stump, 
to  hear  the  farmer  using  language  which  is  good 
Saxon  but  bad  morals,  and  the  dog  barking  him- 
self into  a  fit.  Next  day  he  watches  his  chance, 
invites  his  best  friend  to  the  feast,  and  makes  his 
way  to  a  certain  bed  of  lettuce,  to  a  field  of  celery, 
to  rows  of  juicy  beets  and  cabbages,  or  best  of  all, 
to  a  patch  of  peas,  —  he  will  risk  his  whiskers  for 
green  peas! — where  the  two  rascals  will  stuff 
their  cheeks  and  fill  themselves  until  their  bulging 
stomachs  fairly  drag  upon  the  ground.  Then  the 
farmer  swears  harder  than  ever,  and  if  the  greedy 
marauders  try  to  repeat  their  performance,  ten  to 
one  they  will  get  buckshot  inside  their  ribs,  or 
find  themselves  prisoners  in  the  torture  of  a  trap. 
Woodchucks  seem  never  to  "  catch  on  "  to  a  trap, 
until  it  has  caught  on  to  them. 

One,  having  thus,  or  otherwise,  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  a  naturalist  many  years  ago,  was  labelled 
Arctomys  monax, — the  monk  bear-mouse;  and  the 
tribe  has  never  been  able  to  get  rid  of  it. 

Another  unkindness,  in  woodchuck  opinion,  is 
the  way  folks  laugh  at  his  gait  and  movements. 
He  feels  no  call  to  hurry,  and  he  does  not  consider 
it  a  just  matter  for  ridicule  that  many  other 
animals  are  able  to  outrun  him.  His  ambitions 
are  intellectual  rather  than  athletic.  If  he  is  loose 
in  his  clothes  —  well,  so  is  man's  favorite,  the  cat ; 
and  he  thinks  it  is  unfair,  when  some  one  sees  him 


258  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  ix 

coming  cautiously  down  a  rock,  to  say  that  his 
flabby  body  "  pours  itself  over  the  ledge."  His  gait, 
he  asserts,  is  no  more  a  waddle  than  that  of  the 
ducks,  in  which  farmers  take  so  much  delight.  But 
all  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  injustice  with  which  he 
feels  that  mankind  regards  his  race.  It  does  not 
lead  him  to  retaliate,  being  a  hater  of  strife,  but 
only  causes  him  to  withdraw  his  society  as  much 
as  possible  from  those  who  will  not  treat  him  with 
respect.  None  of  us  can  escape  criticism,  and 
vanity  is  universal,  but  life  is  too  short  to  be 
wasted  in  losing  one's  temper. 

Most  persons  agree,  however,  that  when  our 
little  friend  sits  up  on  the  tripod  of  his  hind  legs 
and  short,  stiff  tail,  as  he  is  fond  of  doing,  and 
eats  his  morsel  like  a  gentleman  or  a  squirrel,  — 
when  you  come  to  classify  him  you  find  him 
nothing  but  a  big  ground-squirrel,  after  all,  —  the 
woodchuck  is  an  interesting  fellow,  and  not  in  the 
least  ridiculous.  His  coat  is  soft  reddish  brown, 
with  a  good  deal  of  variety  in  it,  from  yellowish 
gray  to  those  Canadian  ones  that  are  almost  black ; 
his  nose,  chin,  and  cheeks  are  gray  or  yellow- 
ish ;  his  cap,  tail,  and  feet  are  brownish  black ;  while 
his  eyes  are  large  and  bright ;  and  when  he  pricks 
up  his  ears  and  looks  and  listens  with  his  head  on 
one  side,  and  his  hands  drooped  in  fine-lady 
fashion,  there  is  a  "cunning"  aspect  in  his  face 
that  makes  you  forgive  him  all  his  sins.  Once  in 
a  while  a  young  one  will  rise  up  out  of  the  brown 


259 


CHAP,  ix       A   NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  261 

leaves  and  look  at  you  with  eyes  so  full  of  sur- 
prised innocence  that  you  haven't  the  heart  to 
scare  him  by  even  a  loud  word. 

Sometimes  folks  insist  upon  a  closer  acquaint- 
ance, and,  capturing  a  young  one,  take  him  into 
the  house.  Then  the  woodchuck  does  his  best  to 
please,  and  makes  a  delightful  pet,  cleanly,  teach- 
able, and  not  too  much  inclined  to  mischief. 

But  even  a  young  woodchuck  has  to  settle  down 
and  be  serious  after  a  while;  and  his  way  is  to 
begin  by  falling  in  love.  This  is  as  easy  as  falling 
off  a  log,  and  is  not  the  serious  part.  I  shall  not 
pry  into  the  secrets  of  the  rustic  courtship,  what 
time  the  trembling  swain  invites  his  shy  friend  to 
the  summer-garden  of  mint  and  plantain  at  the 
edge  of  the  orchard ;  or  when,  surprised  by  canine 
brigands,  he  gallantly  pushes  her  behind  him  into 
a  cave  or  refuge  beneath  the  old  apple  roots  and, 
facing  the  foe,  clashes  his  teeth  in  fierce  defiance 
until  the  vagrom  dogs  retire ;  nor,  least  of  all, 
shall  we  follow  the  enamoured  two  as  they  steal 
side  by  side  across  the  midnight  meadow,  passing 
from  moonlight  to  shadow  and  back  into  moon- 
light again,  as  lovers  must,  parting  the  fragrant 
blossoms,  nibbling  here  a  tidbit,  and  taking  there  a 
sip  of  dew,  then  hurrying  homeward  as  the  golden 
crescent  hangs  in  the  tree-tops,  alarmed  at  the 
lateness  they  had  forgotten. 

Now  life  begins  as  much  in  earnest  as  it  is  pos- 
sible for  a  pair  of  woodchucks  to  know.  This 


262  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

brother  and  that  have  already  gone  thither  and 
yon  to  set  up  for  themselves,  some  liking  to  stay 
close  to  the  ancestral  burrow,  others,  having  a  roving 
disposition,  emigrating  to  the  next  farm,  or  even  as 
far  as  the  further  slope  of  the  hill.  Mindful  of  the 
parting  advice  of  the  old  pair,  —  "Above  all  things 
choose  a  place  where  a  freshet  or  heavy  rain  will 
not  flood  you  out  of  house  and  home," — the  young 
couple  take  a  sunny  hillside  long  ago  selected.  It 
is  crowned  by  rocky  woods  bounded  by  an  old 
stone  wall,  and  thence  slopes  down  in  grassy  past- 
ure to  the  meadows  and  gardens  along  the  river. 
Many  a  deep  hole  —  a  sort  of  playhouse  —  has 
the  young  husband  dug  when  a  boy, — you  may 
see  New  England  pastures  pitted  with  these  bach- 
elor experiments  in  tunnelling ;  but  now  he  must 
work  steadily  and  for  a  purpose.  His  feet  are 
armed  with  powerful  claws,  and  the  toes  are  partly 
webbed,  so  that  they  make  excellent  shovels ;  and 
when  he  encounters  a  bit  of  hard-packed  earth,  or 
a  stone,  he  has  a  pickaxe  in  his  strong  front  teeth, 
which  quickly  cuts  down  or  loosens  the  obstacle. 
Shovelling  the  dust  beneath  him,  he  now  and  then 
stops  and  backs  out,  kicking  vigorously,  until  he 
has  swept  all  the  loose  stuff  to  the  entrance  of  the 
tunnel,  and  has  sent  it  flying  outward.  First,  he 
slants  steeply  down  for  three  or  four  feet,  and 
then  begins  to  work  upward  (and  here  is  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  hill-slope  site),  so  that  there  will  be 
ready  drainage  away  from  his  living  room  at  the 


ix  A   NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  263 

inner  extremity.  He  does  not  care  much  whether 
his  tunnel  is  straight  or  curved.  If  he  meets  a 
rock  or  large  root,  he  goes  around  it ;  and  he  usually 
excavates  two  or  three  short  branches,  one  of 
which  is  afterward  used  as  a  place  for  depositing 
all  excrement  and  refuse.  At  last,  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  feet  from  the  entrance,  he  stops,  and  scoops 
out  a  chamber  big  enough  for  the  two  of  them  to 
turn  around  in  comfortably.  This  done,  the  young 
wife  makes  a  basket  of  her  cheeks,  and  carries  in 
enough  grass  for  a  soft  bed.  Meanwhile  her 
mate  has  extended  a  branch  of  the  tunnel  to  the 
surface,  opening  there,  beneath  a  tussock  of  grass 
or  stump  or  stone,  a  small  exit  against  a  time  of 
need,  as  when  a  mink,  weasel,  or  big  snake  in- 
vades the  premises;  but  no  hillock  of  earth  is 
thrown  out  around  this  back  door,  to  attract  atten- 
tion. 

Such  is  the  home  of  the  old-fashioned  contented 
woodchuck  family ;  but  that  admirable  disposition 
in  this  race  to  steadfastly  reduce  exertion  to  a  mini- 
mum, is  leading  the  more  thoughtful  ones  to  get 
rid  of  the  last  vestige  of  the  labor  slavery  of  their 
ancestors,  and  release  themselves  from  even  house- 
building. Many  young  'chucks,  nowadays,  there- 
fore, simply  renovate  abandoned  burrows  of  the  year 
before,  for  it  is  the  fashion  in  Arctomid  society  to 
change  the  dwelling-place  annually ;  or  they  seek  a 
retreat  in  the  hollow  that  nature  has  kindly  opened 
for  their  accommodation  beneath  and  within  some 


264  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

ancient  tree ;  or  even  take  possession  of  a  cavity 
in  the  stone  wall  that  the  farmer  has  thoughtfully 
provided.  The  Yankee  calls  this  laziness.  Here 
again  the  woodchuck  protests  that  such  a  view  is 
calumnious  and  unphilosophical.  He  declares  that 
it  is  a  wicked  waste  of  time  and  energy  to  do  any- 
thing avoidable  not  in  the  direct  line  of  happiness, 
which,  as  every  one  knows,  consists  in  gambolling 
among  odorous  herbage,  swinging  in  the  top  of  a 
bush,  climbing  trees,  —  a  method  of  seeing  the  world 
every  whit  as  good  as  laborious  travel,  —  soaking 
for  hours  in  the  sunshine,  strolling  in  the  moon- 
light, and  contemplating  one's  increase  of  fat- 
ness as  autumn  approaches.  Why  work  when 
one  may  play  ?  Why  play  when  one  may  loaf  ? 
Why  loaf  when  one  may  sleep  ?  And  the  'chuck 
further  complains  of  the  impropriety  of  harsh 
criticism  from  men  who  boast  of  their  labor-saving 
machines,  which,  in  his  opinion,  are  labor-making, 
since  they  exist  in  order  that  two  men  shall  work — 
but  differently — where  only  one  worked  before. 

"And  yet,"  he  goes  on,  as  he  sits  up  with  his 
gray  old  back  leaning  comfortably  against  a  smooth 
boulder,  and  chatters  at  me,  with  a  burr  in  his 
speech  and  clattering  teeth  that  make  his  words 
difficult  to  understand  at  first,  — 

"  And  yet  they  call  it  '  labor-saving,'  and  say 
that  they  are  doing  this  ceaseless,  prodigious 
struggling,  in  order  to  get  a  chance  to  rest  and  en- 
joy themselves,  Jt's  too  deep  for  a  woodchuck! 


IX  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  26$ 

If  they  want  to  get  rid  of  work,  why  in  the  world 
don't  they  stop  working  ?  Look  at  Hiram  Coffin 
over  there.  When  I  was  a  little  cub  he  lived  in 
a  log-cabin.  I  never  could  get  up  early  enough  to 
be  ahead  of  him  in  the  fields,  and  couldn't  keep 
my  eyes  open  late  enough  to. see  him  go  in.  Still 
he  sang  and  whistled  (almost  as  good  as  a  wood- 
chuck,  sometimes),  and  now  and  then  went  on  a 
spree,  so  that  I  concluded  he  was  as  happy  as  he 
knew  how  to  be.  Next  year  he  put  up  an  addition 
to  his  cabin  and  then  had  to  work  so  hard  to  pay 
for  it  that  he  had  no  time  to  sing  at  all.  Now  "  — 
pointing  a  black-gloved  paw  across  the  valley  — 
"behold  that  big  brick  mansion  he's  building; 
and  look  at  him  !  He's  bent  and  stiff  and  thin. 
Thin  ?  why,  he  wouldn't  last  through  the  winter 
in  the  best  burrow  on  the  hill !  He  has  to  wear 
tight  boots  and  a  close  collar,  and  worries  from 
morning  till  night  for  fear  the  bank  will  break, 
or  bugs  will  get  into  his  wheat,  or  his  winter  fires 
burn  up  his  new  house. 

"  Now  look  at  me !  In  my  first  year  I  nearly 
wore  myself  out  digging  a  long  tunnel :  some  were 
good  enough  to  say  it  was  the  finest  burrow  in  the 
valley.  Next  year  I  cleaned  out  a  hole  left  by 
a  fool  'chuck  that  wanted  to  '  see  the  world,'  and 
got  nabbed  by  a  dog  —  and  served  him  right! 
Last  year  I  wasted  a  beautiful  day  in  enlarging 
a  cave  under  a  stump.  This  fall  I  have  my  eye 
on  a  hollow  log,  and  my  wife  and  I  will  stuff  it  with 


266  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

grass  in  half  an  hour,  and  sleep  there  just  as 
happily  as  if  it  had  cost  a  fortnight's  digging." 

It  is  too  bad  that  such  calm  philosophers  as  this 
should  be  annoyed  by  dogs  and  hunters.  Even 
Thoreau,  finding  a  respectable  woodchuck  engaged 
in  its  doorway  in  conversation  with  some  one  in- 
side, reached  in,  seized  it  by  the  tail,  dragged 
it  out,  and  flung  it  far  down  hill.  Could  any  indig- 
nity be  greater,  or,  from  that  source,  more  unex- 
pected ?  Worse  than  this,  some  folks,  having 
learned  it  from  the  aborigines,  desire  marmot 
skins  for  mittens,  wallets,  and  the  like ;  and  even 
try  to  catch  the  poor  things  in  order  to  eat  their 
flesh. 

That  the  animal  is  not  really  spiritless  and  lazy, 
but  deliberately  reposeful,  is  shown  by  the  way  that, 
when  pursued,  he  can  exert  reserve  energy  to  good 
purpose  in  getting  into  a  place  of  safety ;  and  hav- 
ing his  means  of  retreat  strategically  secure,  is 
willing  and  able  to  give  valiant  battle.  Then  the 
chattering  and  growling  of  his  voice,  and  the  clat- 
tering and  gritting  of  his  teeth,  make  any  enemy 
think  twice  before  proceeding  to  close  quarters. 
This  gives  him  time  to  rush  to  his  castle,  into 
which  he  plunges,  flinging  scorn  and  defiance  at 
his  impotent  foes.  If  a  ferret  penetrates  his  de- 
fences, or  a  man  digs  them  up,  he  steals  from  his 
postern  gate  and  hurries  to  new  intrenchments. 
Hence  in  the  South,  when  a  person  is  seen  work- 
ing with  feverish  energy  at  a  hopeless  task,  men 


ix  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  267 

shake  their  heads  and  remark  that  it  is  a  "  ground- 
hog case,"  —  that  is,  a  useless  proceeding. 

When  the  meadows  have  been  mowed,  and  from 
the  stubble  springs  up  a  magnificent  crop  of 
clover,  comes  the  heyday  of  the  woodchuck's 
year.  His  midsummer  housework  is  done,  his 
mind  is  free  from  care,  and  he  may  eat  all  he 
wants  of  this  daintiest  of  food.  There  is  nothing 
he  likes  so  well  and  nothing  that  does  him  so  much 
good.  His  cheeks  widen,  his  ribs  are  distended, 
and  his  loose  skin  is  stretched  out  sleek  with  fat- 
ness. At  last  the  'chucks  can  hold  no  more,  and 
need  only  loaf  in  the  September  warmth  and  doze 
away  the  time  until  the  sun  crosses  the  equinoctial 
line  at  the  end  of  the  month.  This  is  the  blessed 
date  when  etiquette  permits  them  to  refuse  longer 
to  tax  themselves  with  social  amenities,  and  to 
begin  their  Lenten  fast. 

One  after  another  each  pair  of  woodchucks 
retreat  dozily  to  their  beds,  curl  up  side  by  side 
into  two  balls  of  warm  fur,  and  fall  fast  asleep.  A 
week  later  the  most  diligent  searcher  will  not  once 
hear  the  "chuckling  diminuendo  of  the  wood- 
chuck's  whistle"  of  which  Mr.  Robinson  speaks, 
for  not  a  single  siffleur  is  to  be  found  on  top  of 
the  ground.  Warm  sunny  days  may  succeed  one 
another,  frost  and  snow  may  hold  off  for  weeks, 
but  the  woodchuck  pays  no  heed.  His  rule  en- 
joins him  to  go  to  sleep  by  the  first  of  October ; 
therefore  to  sleep  he  goes,  and  stays  there  with 


268  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

that  fixity  of  purpose  that  only  the  devotee  of 
method  can  attain  to.  Even  the  pet  in  your  house, 
kept  warm  the  year  through,  will  curl  up  in  his 
kennel  (or,  better,  in  your  cellar)  and  be  indifferent 
to  the  world  until  his  duty  of  sleep  has  been  ful- 
filled. Pick  him  up,  and  you  will  think  him  dead, 
so  rigid,  cold,  and  insensible  is  he.  Only  the  most 
delicate  instruments  show  that  his  heart  beats  and 
that  the  blood  still  oozes  sluggishly  through  his 
inert  veins.  He  will  survive  for  hours  in  a  jar  of 
carbonic-acid  gas,  where  he  would  drown,  when 
awake,  in  two  minutes.  It  is  true  that  you  may 
carefully  thaw  him  out,  but  the  moment  you  let 
him  alone  he  will  drop  into  slumber  again,  regard- 
less of  temperature.  And  so  his  winter  passes  in 
one  long  dream  of  summer. 

Could  anything  be  sweeter  or  more  convenient  ? 
Having  only  provided  a  shelter,  he  forthwith  rids 
himself  of  winter.  He  need  make  no  other 
preparation.  Wrapped  in  his  own  fur,  warmed 
and  fed  by  the  slow  consumption  of  the  fat  which 
it  was  the  supreme  pleasure  of  his  life  to  acquire, 
apathetic  to  cold,  hunger,  fear,  or  fretting,  he 
escapes  not  only  the  famine  and  freezing  to  which 
such  animals  as  are  abroad  all  the  year  are  ex- 
posed, but  the  hard  work  required  of  those,  like 
the  chipmunk,  which  must  fill  a  storehouse  in 
advance,  in  order  to  feed  during  the  months  of 
scarcity.  Ah,  he  is  a  canny  old  marmot ! 

But,   sad  to  say,  few  things  in  this  world  are. 


ix  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  269 

still  quite  perfect,  and  even  the  woodchuck's  sys- 
tem of  life  has  room  for  improvement.  As  it 
sends  him  to  bed  at  the  autumnal  equinox,  so  it  bids 
him  awake  at  the  vernal  equinox,  and  this  is  too 
early  in  modern  New  England.  They  say  that  he 
often  comes  out  even  earlier,  —  some  will  tell  you 
on  Candlemas  Day,  and  others  on  St.  Valentine's 
Day  (sometimes  called  Woodchuck  Day  by  the 
Yankees,  who  do  not  take  much  stock  in  foreign 
saints);  then  he  looks  for  his  shadow,  and  if  he 
can  see  it  he  takes  it  as  a  sign  that  he  would  better 
return  to  his  bed. 

"  The  festive  ground-hog  wakes  to-day, 

And  with  reluctant  roll 
He  waddles  up  his  sinuous  way 

And  pops  forth  from  his  hole. 
He  rubs  his  little  blinking  eyes 

So  heavy  from  long  sleep, 
That  he  may  read  the  tell-tale  skies  — 

Which  is  it  —  wake  or  sleep? 

"  And  next  he  turns  three  times  around, 

For  it  is  written  so, 
That  if  his  shadow  's  on  the  ground 

Or  outlined  in  the  snow, 
He  fain  must  tumble  in  again, 

For  so  tradition  says, 
And  snooze  away  down  in  his  den 

For  forty  more  long  days." 

That  is  the  way  a  poet  of  the  newspaper-corner 
expresses  it;   but  I  have  never  beheld  such  an 


2/O  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

inquirer  abroad,  and  am  inclined  to  think  the  tale 
an  idle  fancy :  the  woodchuck  is  too  level-headed 
to  be  likely  to  take  counsel  of  a  shadow. 

He  does  certainly  appear  at  the  end  of  March, 
however,  even  though,  as  usually  happens,  he 
must  bore  his  way  out  through  a  snow-bank.  He 
is  then  weak  and  lean  and  hungry,  and  is  likely  to 
starve  before  the  fresh  grass  appears. 

I  am  at  a  loss  how  to  explain  this  defect  in  the 
woodchuck's  system  (unless  he  is  accounted  a  Jack- 
sonian  Democrat  from  the  South,  unwilling  to  con- 
cede anything  to  Northern  ideas,  even  of  climate), 
except  by  the  theory  that  his  conservatism  has  for 
once  led  him  into  disadvantage.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes,  those  cos- 
mic dates  upon  which  the  marmot's  whole  reckon- 
ing appears  to  be  based ;  these  change  a  trifle  every 
year,  and  the  effect  in  the  course  of  time  is  to 
bring  the  seasons  and  the  names  long  ago  applied 
to  them  out  of  coincidence.  The  woodchuck 
family  is  a  very  ancient  one,  and  highly  connected ; 
when  it  first  knew  the  autumnal  equinox  by  name, 
the  late  frosts  had  killed  the  herbage,  nights  were 
cold,  and  bed-time  was  truly  at  hand.  Similarly 
in  those  days  the  vernal  equinox  really  marked  the 
end  of  cold  weather,  the  disappearance  of  snow, 
and  the  sprouting  of  green  leaves.  But  while,  with 
a  commendable  clinging  to  ancient  ways,  the  wood- 
chucks  have  been  faithfully  following  old  traditions, 
the  rascally  earth  has  been  wabbling  in  its  orbit 


IX  A  NATURAL  NEW  ENGLANDER  2?I 

until  the  seasons  have  slipped  back,  and  now  the 
animal  goes  to  sleep  long  before  he  need,  and 
wakes  up  a  month  or  two  before  he  ought. 

An  astronomer  tells  me  that  there  is  much 
force  in  this  theory,  but  points  out  a  trifling  diffi- 
culty in  the  fact  that  it  is  wrong  end  to,  since  the 
effect  of  the  /recession  of  the  equinoxes  is  to 
advance,  rather  than  retard,  the  /recession  of  the 
seasons !  You  can  study  the  matter  out  for  your- 
self and  welcome.  The  woodchucks  have  shown 
themselves  otherwise  possessed  of  so  much  clear- 
headedness and  philosophic  wisdom,  that  I  expect 
soon  to  hear  of  their  calling  a  council  like  that 
which  reformed  our  human  calendar,  and  setting 
this  matter  straight.  That  done,  I  see  nothing  left 
for  the  most  captious  woodchuck  to  desire,  and  the 
rest  of  us  may  then  admire  one  bit  of  the  world 
perfected ! 

NOTE.  —  Much  has  been  written  about  our  woodchucks. 
Technical  descriptions  of  all  the  species  and  varieties  will  be 
found  in  Dr.  Elliot's  "  Synopsis  "  (see  page  1 16).  Their  hiber- 
nation is  discussed  in  my  "Life  of  Mammals";  and  more  fully 
treated  of  in  Wesley  Mills's  "  Nature  and  Development  of 
Animal  Intelligence."  A  very  full  and  pleasing  biography  of 
the  animal  in  New  England  is  that  by  W.  E.  Cram  in  Stone 
and  Cram's  "American  Animals'1;  while  other  detailed  ac- 
counts may  be  found  in  Merriam's  "  Natural  History  of  the 
Adirondacks  "  (Transactions  Linnaan  Society  of  New  York, 
Vol.  I,  1882),  in  Audubon  and  Bachman's  "Quadrupeds  of 
North  America,"  in  Godman's  "  American  Natural  History," 
in  Mrs.  Wright's  "  Four-footed  Americans,"  John  Burroughs's 
"Pepacton,"  Rowland  Robinson's  "In  New  England  Fields 
and  Woods,"  Silas  Lottridge's  "Animal  Snapshots,"  and  in 
various  scientific  periodicals. 


X 

A  LITTLE  BROTHER   OF  THE  BEAR 

THE  raccoon  is  a  truly  American  animal,  even  to 
its  name.  Captain  John  Smith,  in  his  report  upon 
Virginia,  mentions  "a  beast  they  call  Aroughcun, 
much  like  a  badger,  but  vseth  to  Hue  on  trees 
as  Squirrels  doe."  The  rapid  Americans  quickly 
shortened  these  sonorous  syllables  to  "  raccoon," 
with  the  emphasis  thrown  strongly  on  the  last 
syllable,  and  now  we  usually  cut  even  that  down 
to  'coon. 

Truly  if  you  were  to  dock  his  tail  to  a  mere 
scut,  and  not  compare  the  markings  on  his  face 
too  closely,  he  is  "  much  like  a  badger "  as  the 
observant  Smith  said ;  but  this  is  an  accidental 
and  outward  likeness  soon  forgotten,  for  the  sharp, 
flexible  nose,  the  delicate,  flat-soled  feet,  the  arched 
hind  quarters,  and  the  long  ringed  tail  quickly  im- 
press themselves  upon  a  new  acquaintance.  You 
soon  see  that  he  is  really  a  miniature  Bruin  — 
"that  brief  summary  of  a  bear,"  as  Burroughs 
styles  him.  In  fact  the  early  zoologists  simply 
put  him  in  the  genus  Ursus,  and  had  done  with 
it;  but  closer  examination  of  his  anatomy,  while 
272 


CHAP.X     A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR          2J$ 

it  left  him  in  the  bear  family,  gave  him  a  separate 
genus,  —  Procyon.  Our  common  Eastern  raccoon 
is  Procyon  lotor:  another  belonging  to  Central  and 
South  America  is  Procyon  cancrivorus,  —  the  crab- 
eater. 

According  to  Mr.  J.  A.  Allen,  a  comparison  of 
Northern  with  Southern  specimens  shows  a  gradual 
increase  in  size  southward,  amounting  to  a  seventh 
or  eighth  of  the  bulk.  There  is  also  a  tendency 
to  an  increase  in  the  intensity  of  the  colors  in  the 
same  direction ;  and  this  anatomist  considers  that 
these  variations  explain  away  the  "blackfooted," 
"  psora,"  and  two  or  three  other  nominal  species 
formerly  distinguished. 

Its  range  extends  throughout  the  wooded  parts 
of  the  country  as  far  northeast  as  central  New 
Brunswick,  and  northwest  into  northern  British 
Columbia,  while  it  occurs  sparingly  on  the  North 
Saskatchewan. 

The  raccoon  is  one  of  the  most  thoroughly  noc- 
turnal of  all  our  mammals;  and  he  hibernates 
throughout  the  northern  part  of  his  range,  more 
or  less  unbrokenly,  according  to  the  weather,  so 
that  only  those  know  him  well,  in  his  wild  condi- 
tion, who  are  in  the  country  at  all  seasons.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  he  is  easily  trapped  and  makes  a 
contented  pet  and  convenient  subject  for  study. 

This  simplicity  of  mind,  which  makes  him  un- 
suspicious of  novelties,  seems  to  show  that  he  is 
not  entitled  to  all  of  the  reputation  for  acuteness 


2/6  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

that  has  been  given  to  him.  Perhaps  the  fox  is 
his  superior  in  real  mental  capacity,  but  the  rac- 
coon is  so  far  beyond  Reynard  and  many  other 
highly  sagacious  beasts  in  manual  dexterity,  that 
he  appears  to  be  quite  as  clever  as  the  best  of 
them.  Add  to  this  the  remarkable  acuteness  of 
his  hearing,  aided  by  sharp  eyes  and  a  quick  nose, 
and  it  is  no  wonder  that  "sly"  has  come  to  be 
an  accepted  epithet  describing  him. 

The  'coon  most  often  makes  his  home  in  a  hollow 
tree,  and  is  an  excellent  climber,  yet  he  is  not  an 
arboreal  animal,  in  the  sense  that  a  squirrel  is.  As 
Dr.  Merriam  puts  it : 

"  They  do  not  pursue  their  prey  amongst  the 
tree-tops,  after  the  manner  of  the  martens ;  nor 
make  a  practice  of  gathering  nuts  from  the 
branches,  like  squirrels;  nor  do  they,  like  the 
porcupine,  browse  upon  the  green  foliage.  Trees 
constitute  the  homes  in  which  they  rest  and  bring 
forth  their  young,  and  to  which  they  retreat  when 
pursued  by  man  or  beast;  but  their  business  is 
transacted  elsewhere." 

The  home  of  the  raccoon  family  is  usually  in  a 
hollow  high  up  in  a  tree,  where  a  limb  has  been 
wrenched  off  by  the  wind  or  water  has  rotted  a 
hole  (perhaps  begun  by  a  woodpecker)  large 
enough  for  their  accommodation ;  but  now  and 
then  a  place  is  selected  nearer  the  ground,  as  a 
hollow  log;  and  Kennicott  tells  us  that  in  the 
open  regions  of  Illinois  and  the  neighboring  States 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  SEAR          277 

it  will  occupy  the  burrows  of  other  animals  and 
even  rear  its  progeny  in  them.  It  never  digs  a 
hole  of  any  kind  for  itself ;  nor  does  it  care  for 
much  bedding,  —  those  in  captivity  preferring  the 
bare  boards  of  their  pen  to  any  litter  that  may  be 
furnished  to  them.  It  is  a  forest  animal,  then,  and 
rather  inclined  to  swamps;  but  this  may  be  merely 
because  wet  lands  most  often  contain  damaged 
trees,  and  also  furnish  more  food  than  the  hard, 
dry,  upland  groves.  More  rarely  in  the  West,  it 
takes  excursions  out  on  the  prairies,  doubtless  in 
search  of  insects  and  crayfish. 

In  such  a  hole  are  produced  in  early  spring  a 
litter  of  five  or  six  young  ones  that  by  and  by 
grow  large  enough  to  leave  home  and  follow  the 
parents  in  their  nocturnal  vagabondage,  staying 
with  them  for  a  year  or  so,  until  they  found  fami- 
lies of  their  own.  Hence  in  the  summer  and  au- 
tumn, when  'coons  are  mainly  in  evidence,  they 
are  most  often  met  with  in  these  little  family  com- 
panies. It  is  rare  to  see  a  wild  'coon  out  of  doors 
in  daylight,  however ;  or,  if  he  does  appear,  it  is 
usually  rolled  up  asleep  in  some  lofty  crotch,  where 
he  dozes  in  the  sunshine,  rocked  by  the  breeze. 
In  summer,  however,  when  the  young  are  old 
enough  to  travel,  they  move  about  a  good  deal, 
and  -in  the  West  often  leave  the  woods  altogether 
and  wander  far  out  upon  the  prairies,  taking 
shelter  in  the  deserted  holes  of  skunks,  badgers, 
and  similar  temporary  retreats.  As  winter  comes 


2/8  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

on  they  restrict  their  roving,  seek  a  permanent 
abode,  and  in  the  coldest  weather  hibernate  com- 
pletely. This,  however,  is  only  in  the  North,  and 
even  there  they  are  liable  to  awake  and  stir  around 
during  warm  spells,  and  usually  emerge  from  their 
torpidity  in  February  or  early  March.  They  sleep 
with  their  heads  curled  down  against  their  stom- 
achs and  with  their  faces  protected  by  the  furry 
wrap  of  the  tail,  so  that  they  are  mere  balls  of  fur. 
That  they  are  often  abroad  in  winter  is  manifest 
from  the  mark  in  the  snow  of  their  feet,  which 
have  five  toes  both  before  and  behind. 

These  tracks  show  that,  although  the  animal  is 
plantigrade,  and  when  quiet  stands  on  the  whole 
soles  of  his  feet,  like  a  bear,  when  he  walks  he 
treads  only  on  his  toes. 

The  raccoon  eats  anything  he  can  get  hold  of ; 
and  Kennicott  has  summed  up  the  matter  so 
tersely  that  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote  his 
concise  phrases. 

"The  raccoon,"  he  says,  "is  omnivorous.  It  eats 
flesh  of  any  kind,  preying  upon  small  birds  and 
mammals,  when  it  can  catch  them,  and  sometimes 
making  destructive  forays  into  the  poultry-yard. 
It  devours  birds'  eggs  whenever  within  reach,  pro- 
curing the  eggs  of  woodpeckers  by  thrusting  its 
paws  into  their  holes;  it  also  watches  turtles  when 
depositing  their  eggs  in  the  sand,  and,  upon  their 
departure,  digs  them  up.  This  animal  is  fond  of 
fish,  and  displays  remarkable  dexterity  in  capturing 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR          279 

them  with  his  fore  paws.  It  is  also  a  most  suc- 
cessful frog-hunter,  and  may  frequently  be  tracked 
along  the  river's  edge,  where  it  has  been  searching 
for  frogs,  crayfish,  water-snails,  and  dead  mussels. 
In  summer  frogs  often  form  a  large  portion  of  its 
food,  when  some  species  leave  the  water  and  there- 
fore are  easily  caught.  Insects  are  eaten  to  some 
extent,  as  are  slugs  and  snails.  It  also  feeds 
largely  upon  various  vegetables  in  summer;  and 
its  particular  fondness  for  green  corn  (maize)  is 
well  known  to  every  farmer.  ...  In  winter  they 
will  occasionally  eat  the  ripened  grain,  and  have 
been  known  to  visit  corn-cribs  for  that  purpose. 
They  are  also  said  to  eat  acorns,  and  to  gnaw 
through  pumpkins  to  procure  the  seeds ;  probably, 
like  the  bear,  they  feed  more  or  less  on  berries. 
In  confinement  they  are  exceedingly  fond  of  sugar. 
Like  the  squirrels  and  spermophiles,  they  some- 
times dig  up  newly  planted  corn." 

The  common  name  along  the  southern  coasts 
of  the  United  States  for  the  small,  narrow,  tangled, 
wild  oysters  that  grow  so  abundantly  in  the  salt- 
marshes  and  inlets,  is  "  'coon-oyster,"  in  reference 
to  the  practice  of  the  raccoons,  who  come  down 
to  feed  upon  them  at  high  tide.  It  is  an  old  tra- 
dition, that  the  animals  now  and  then  get  caught 
by  a  big  one  closing  upon  its  paw  and  holding  it 
until  the  tide  rises  and  drowns  the  animal;  but  I 
have  never  known  of  such  a  case,  though  I  have 
seen  the  animal  searching  the  oyster-reefs  in 


280  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

broad  daylight,  as  well  as  by  the  light  of  the 
harvest  moon.  I  question  whether  it  ever  hap- 
pens, for  the  'coon  is  not  only  too  quick-witted 
but  too  nimble  to  be  caught  in  a  trap  acting  so 
slowly  as  that. 

He  is  as  clever  as  a  monkey  with  his  front  paws 
—  and  with  the  hind  ones,  too,  for  that  matter. 
A  palmist  would  find,  curiously  enough,  the  same 
arrangement  of  "  lines  "  and  "  mounts  "  in  his  palm 
as  in  those  of  a  cat  or  a  weasel,  and  would  deduce 
similarity  of  acumen  and  behavior  to  those  animals 
and  be  more  nearly  right  than  palmists  usually 
are.  These  palms  seem  to  be  extremely  sensitive, 
and  by  them  he  is  able  to  distinguish  objects  very 
nicely.  The  fore  feet,  in  fact,  are  never  still,  but 
are  everlastingly  moving  in  examination  of  what- 
ever is  within  reach ;  and  to  see  one  sit  up  with 
his  back  against  a  log,  holding  something  to  eat 
between  his  hind  feet,  and  daintily  picking  away 
and  handing  morsels  to  his  mouth  with  his  paws, 
is  irresistibly  comic.  An  egg  is  thus  managed 
without  wasting  a  drop,  the  teeth  breaking  a  small 
opening  in  one  end,  and  the  tongue  lapping  up  the 
contents  while  the  shell  is  held  firmly  in  the  feet. 

Raccoons  are  fond  of  many  kinds  of  fruit  and  ber- 
ries. Dr.  C.  C.  Abbot  puts  into  his  "  Upland  and 
Meadow  "  a  pleasant  note  of  experience  on  this  point. 

"There  in  a  small  gum-tree,  largely  overgrown 
by  a  fox-grapevine,  sat  a  small  raccoon  .  .  .  and 
simply  stared  without  winking  as  I  approached. 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR         281 

When  within  a  dozen  paces  I  saw  that  its  chops 
were  literally  dripping  with  gore.  There  were  no 
feathers  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  or  caught  in  the 
tangled  undergrowth,  and  no  bits  of  fur ;  but  drops 
of  blood  were  spattered  everywhere.  The  poor 
thing  must  be  wounded,  I  thought.  Hoping,  there- 
fore, to  put  the  creature  out  of  its  misery,  I  planned 
to  reach  it;  but  as  I  had  no  gun,  I  could  only 
climb.  This  failed,  but,  as  I  was  looking  up  the 
straight  stem  of  the  tree,  the  'coon  moved  a  little 
upward  and  outward,  as  though  determined  to 
keep  the  space  between  us  unchanged.  The  ease 
of  its  movements  did  not  suggest  a  wound  or  a 
weakness  from  loss  of  blood,  and  I  was  again  at 
sea  in  the  matter,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Scat- 
tered about  the  vine  were  single  grapes  and  bunches 
of  two  and  three.  A  beggarly  show  for  grapes ; 
but  then  their  size  made  up  for  the  lack  of  num- 
bers. Each  grape  was  black  as  anthracite,  a 
perfect  sphere  an  inch  in  diameter.  Such  grapes ! 
No  wonder  the  raccoon  had  jaws  dripping  with 
gore ;  no  wonder  the  leaves  below  were  spattered 
with  purple  blotches.  Every  grape  was  nigh  to 
bursting  with  the  richest  of  ruddy  wild  fruit-juices, 
crimson  and  blood-thick.  My  little  'coon  was  an 
epicure." 

One  of  the  singularities  of  the  raccoon  is  its  habit 
of  dipping  its  food  in  water  or  washing  it,  to  which 
it  owes  its  specific  name,  —  lotor,  the  washer.  If 
water  is  not  at  hand,  it  will  often  rub  it  vigorously 


282  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

before  eating  it.  Various  explanations  of  this  have 
been  given;  but  it  is  probable  that  the  simplest  — 
namely,  that  it  seeks  to  wash  the  food  —  is  the 
nearest  the  truth.  An  acquaintance  of  mine  was 
once  mischievous  enough  to  give  a  captive  'coon  a 
raisin  covered  with  cayenne  pepper,  which  kept  the 
poor  animal  sneezing  for  half  an  hour.  The  next 
day  he  was  given  another ;  but  this  time  he  sniffed 
at  it  in  advance,  and  discovering  more  pepper,  took 
the  raisin  to  his  dish  and  washed  it.  Smelling  of 
it  cautiously,  he  was  not  satisfied  with  his  work, 
but  continued  to  rub  it  between  his  palms  and 
wash  it  under  the  water  until  he  was  sure  nothing 
remained  upon  it  to  annoy  his  throat  and  nose. 

The  animal  is  partial  to  the  water,  being  a  good 
swimmer  and  loving  to  dwell  near  streams  or  the 
sea  and  to  dabble  in  the  shallows,  fishing  many  a 
morsel  out  of  the  pools  and  capturing  agile  crabs 
and  crayfish  by  overturning  the  stones. 

His  partiality  for  crayfish  is  notorious,  those  liv- 
ing in  the  far  Southwest  subsisting  almost  wholly 
upon  these  subterranean  creatures,  which  they 
scratch  out  of  their  tubular  burrows.  This  taste 
has  given  rise  to  a  fable  among  the  O  jib  ways, 
related  by  Dr.  Henry  Schoolcraft,  long  ago,  in  his 
"Algic  Tales."  The  Indian  story  regards  it  as 
the  result  of  an  enmity  between  the  two  animals, 
in  the  fabulous  antiquity,  which  caused  such  wari- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  latter  that  the  poor  raccoon, 
with  all  his  stealthiness,  was  at  last  put  into  great 


x  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR          283 

straits  for  a  meal,  since  no  crayfish  would  venture 
near  shore.  At  length  he  bethought  him  of  an 
expedient  to  decoy  his  enemy.  Knowing  that  the 
crayfish  feed  on  worms,  he  procured  a  quantity  of 
old  rotten  wood  (filled  with  worms),  and  stuffing  it 
into  his  mouth  and  ears,  and  powdering  it  over  his 
body,  he  lay  down  by  the  water's  edge,  to  induce 
the  belief  that  he  was  dead.  An  old  crayfish  came 
warily  out  of  the  water,  and  crawled  around  and  over 
the  body  of  his  enemy ;  then  called  to  his  fellows  : 

"Assibun  is  dead,- — come  up  and  eat  him!" 

When  a  multitude  had  gathered  the  raccoon 
sprang  up  and  devoured  the  whole  crowd.  While 
he  was  still  busy  with  the  fragments  of  his  feast, 
a  little  female  crayfish,  carrying  her  infant  sister 
on  her  back,  came  up,  seeking  her  relatives.  Dis- 
covering what  had  happened,  she  went  boldly  up 
to  the  monster,  and  said : 

"Here,  Assibun,  you  behold  me  and  my  little 
sister.  We  are  all  alone.  You  have  eaten  up  our 
parents  and  all  our  friends,  —  eat  us,  too." 

Then  she  sang  a  long  death-chant,  the  end  of 
which  was  in  this  strain  : 

"  Once  my  people,  lodge  and  band, 
Stretched  their  numbers  through  the  land ; 
Roving  brooks  and  limpid  streams, 
By  the  moon's  benignant  beams. 
First  in  revel,  dance,  and  play,. 
Now,  alas!  ah!  where  are  they? 
Clutch  us,  monster,  —  eat  us  soon 

Assibun,  amoon." 


284  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

The  raccoon  felt  reproached  by  this  act  of  cour- 
age and  magnanimity,  and  refused  to  dishonor 
himself  by  exterminating  the  whole  race.  At  this 
moment  Manabozha,  the  Deity,  happened  to  pass 
by.  Seeing  how  things  were : 

"  Tyau ! "  he  shouted  to  the  raccoon.  "Thou  art 
a  thief  and  an  unmerciful  dog.  Get  thee  up  into 
the  trees,  lest  I  change  thee  into  one  of  these  same 
wormfish,  for  thou  wast  thyself  originally  a  shell, 
and  bearest  in  thy  name  the  influence  of  my  trans- 
forming hand." 

He  then  took  up  the  little  supplicant  crayfish 
girls,  and  cast  them  into  the  stream. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  you  may  dwell.  Hide  your- 
self under  the  stones,  and  hereafter  you  shall  be 
playthings  for  children." 

Mr.  Schoolcraft  explains  that  the  name  of  the 
raccoon,  Assibun,  in  the  Chippewa  language,  seems 
to  be  a  derivation  from  the  noun  meaning  shell; 
but  he  says  that  no  tale  of  a  transformation,  such 
as  is  here  alluded  to,  has  come  to  his  knowledge. 
The  raccoon  also  figures  in  another  tale,  where  the 
giant  (red-headed)  woodpecker  saves  Manabozha 
from  starving  to  death,  on  one  occasion  in  winter, 
by  digging  out  of  a  tree  with  his  powerful  bill  a 
family  of  torpid  'coons,  and  laying  them  at  the 
sovereign's  feet. 

Dr.  Godman  relates  that  a  pair  of  raccoons  in 
his  keeping  were  never  happy  except  when  pro- 
vided with  a  tub  of  water,  in  which  they  played 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR         285 

incessantly ;  and  never  were  gayer  at  this  sport 
than  in  midwinter  —  this  was  in  Philadelphia  — 
paddling  about  and  playing  with  fragments  of 
floating  ice.  "  Indeed,"  says  Dr.  Godman,  "  these 
animals  have  never  evinced  the  slightest  dislike 
to  cold,  or  suffered  in  any  degree  therefrom ;  they 
have  in  all  weathers  slept  in  a  flour-barrel  thrown 
on  its  side,  with  one  end  entirely  open,  and  with- 
out any  material  of  which  to  make  a  bed.  They 
show  no  repugnance  to  being  sprinkled  or  dashed 
with  water,  and  voluntarily  remain  exposed  to  the 
rain  or  snow,  which  wets  them  thoroughly,  not- 
withstanding their  long  hair,  which,  being  almost 
erect,  is  not  well  suited  to  turn  the  rain." 

It  is  evident  that  creatures  so  tough  as  this 
would  not  waste  much  time  in  winter  torpidity 
anywhere  south  of  New  York  or  St.  Louis.  Cer- 
tainly they  do  not  hibernate  to  any  extent  in 
southern  New  Jersey,  where,  by  the  way,  they 
are  becoming  rare.  Wherever  hibernation  does 
take  place  it  is  probably  due  more  to  hunger  than 
to  cold.  Thus  Mr.  Burroughs  tells  us  that  in  the 
western  Catskills  the  'coons  appear  in  March  and 
go  "  creeping  about  the  fields,  so  reduced  by  starva- 
tion as  to  be  quite  helpless,  and  offering  no  resist- 
ance to  my  taking  them  up  by  the  tail  and  carrying 
them  home."  It  is  at  this  inhospitable  season 
that  they  come  to  the  farmer's  house,  burrow 
under  his  haystacks  in  search  of  mice,  and  invade 
his  poultry-yard ;  a  little  later,  too,  as  soon  as  the 


286  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP,  x 

frost  is  out  of  the  ground,  they  capture  more 
insects,  noxious  and  otherwise,  than  at  any  other 
time,  except,  perhaps,  when  grasshoppers  are  preva- 
lent. Some  captive  'coons  are  'cute  about  beguil- 
ing chickens  within  reach.  Mr.  C.  L.  Herrick 
relates,  in  his  "  Mammals  of  Minnesota,"  that  his 
pet  abstained  for  weeks  from  harming  the  hens 
and  chickens  until  they  lost  all  fear  and  clustered 
about  the  animal  to  pick  up  the  crumbs  whenever 
he  was  fed.  Then  suddenly  he  profited  by  this 
education  and  had  many  a  good  dinner  off  his 
dupes  before  his  credit  was  lost.  I  have  been 
told  of  another  pet  raccoon,  in  western  Pennsyl- 
vania, which  was  kept  chained  in  a  yard  and  fed 
on  bread  and  vegetables  until  he  longed  for  flesh. 
One  day  he  was  observed  to  break  up  his  bread 
between  his  palms  and  scatter  the  crumbs  in  a 
line  from  the  uttermost  reach  of  his  tether  to  the 
mouth  of  his  artificial  burrow.  Then  he  went  and 
lay  down,  very  quietly,  as  if  asleep.  The  chickens 
wandering  about  struck  the  trail  of  crumbs,  and 
innocently  followed  it  up  to  the  nose  of  the  hum- 
bug -in  fur,  who  snatched  one  or  more  with  a  leap, 
and  twisted  their  heads  off.  I  cannot  so  vouch 
for  the  accuracy  of  observation  here,  as  to  be 
certain  that  the  scattering  of  the  crumbs  was 
intentional ;  but  I  believe  that  such  a  device  is 
quite  within  procyonine  capability. 

The  prime  delicacy  of  the  world  in  the  'coon's 
opinion,    however,    is  Indian  corn,  in  that   same 


CHAP.  X     A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR         289 

milky  condition  of  sweet  half-ripeness  which  so 
attracts  the  squirrels,  the  mice,  the  birds  and  — 
you  and  me,  if  you  please;  and  when  he  has 
found  it  he  strips  back  the  husk  as  deftly  as  any 
"  neat-handed  Phyllis,"  and  disposes  of  the  succu- 
lent kernels  with  ease  and  rapidity.  This  is  his 
occupation  and  delight  in  the  still  hot  August 
nights,  and  no  one  has  pictured  it  forth  to  our  im- 
agination as  delicately  as  does  Rowland  Robinson 
in  his  "  New  England  Fields  and  Woods" : 

"  Above  the  katydid's  strident  cry  and  the 
piper's  [green  cricket's]  incessant  notes,  a  wild, 
tremulous  whinny  shivers  through  the  gloom  at 
intervals,  now  from  a  distant  field  or  wood,  now 
from  the  near  orchard.  One  listener  will  tell  you 
that  it  is  only  a  little  screech-owl's  voice,  another 
that  it  is  the  raccoon's  rallying-cry  to  a  raid  on  the 
cornfield.  There  is  endless  disputation  concerning 
it,  and  apparently  no  certainty,  but  the  raccoon  is 
wilder  than  the  owl,  and  it  is  his  voice  that  you  hear. 

"  The  corn  is  in  the  milk ;  the  beast  is  ready. 
The  father  and  mother  and  well-grown  children, 
born  and  reared  in  the  cavern  of  a  ledge  or  hollow 
tree  of  a  swamp,  are  hungry  for  sweets  remem- 
bered or  yet  untasted,  and  they  are  gathering  to 
it,  stealing  out  of  the  thick  darkness  of  the  woods 
and  along  the  brookside  in  single  file,  never  stop- 
ping to  dig  a  fiery  wake-robin  bulb,  nor  to  catch  a 
frog,  nor  to  harry  a  late  brood  of  ground-nesting 
birds,  but  only  to  call  some  laggard,  or  distant 


2QO  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

clansfolk.  So  one  fancies,  when  the  quavering  cry 
is  repeated  and  when  it  ceases,  that  all  the  free- 
booters have  gained  the  cornfield  and  are  silent 
with  busy  looting." 

Now  is  the  time  when  'coon-hunting  is  most  fun 
and  best  rewarded,  for  now  the  animal  is  so  fat 
that  a  large  one  may  weigh  twenty-five  pounds,  and 
his  flesh  is  tender,  juicy,  and  well-flavored,  whereas, 
at  other  times  of  the  year,  it  is  rather  poor  proven- 
der, even  for  a  stew,  and  sometimes  as  rank  as  that 
of  a  muskrat ;  nevertheless,  our  colored  friends  in 
the  South  are  willing  to  eat  it  at  any  time. 

'Coon-hunting  is  one  of  the  truly  American  sports 
of  the  chase,  though  its  devotees  have  found  diffi- 
culty in  persuading  folks  to  take  their  sport  seri- 
ously. It  is,  in  truth,  a  comical  aspect  of  hunting, 
and  is  scarcely  less  wanting  in  dignity  than  a 
'possum  chase,  which  confessedly  has  none  at  all. 
If  'coon-hunting  be  regarded  as  a  step  higher  than 
that,  it  loses  the  advantage  at  the  end,  for  a  fat 
'possum  is  certainly  better  eating  than  a  'coon, 
however  rotund.  The  chase,  nevertheless,  calls 
for  endurance,  since  an  old  'coon  may  run  four 
or  five  miles  after  he  has  been  started,  zigzagging 
hither  and  yon,  circling  round  and  round  trees, 
leaving  a  track  calculated  to  make  a  dog  dizzy, 
swimming  streams,  and  running  along  the  tops  of 
logs  and  snake-fences,  hiding  his  trail  with  the 
craftiness  of  a  fox. 

The   hunt  is   always   organized   late  at   night. 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR         29 1 

Nobody  ever  heard  of  a  real  'coon-hunt  by  day- 
light. The  animals  are  moving  about  then,  leav- 
ing trails  that,  starting  at  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
lead  into  the  fastnesses  where  they  take  refuge. 
Such  trails  would  grow  "  cold  "  before  noonday. 

There  are  dogs  called  'coon-dogs,  but  of  no 
particular  breed  or  pedigree.  A  local  pack  will 
consist  of  Rag,  Tag,  and  Bobtail,  with  all  of  Bob- 
tail's friends  and  connections.  One  of  them  is 
known  to  be  best  and  takes  the  lead.  They  call 
him  the  trailer.  The  rest  rush  yelping  after,  and 
as  fast  as  possible  follow  the  hunters,  with  torches 
or  lanterns  or  by  moonlight,  carrying  axes  and 
hatchets,  guns,  and  antidotes  for  snake-bite  in 
flat,  black  bottles.  Trailer's  motley  crew  catch  a 
sniff  of  the  trail  and  disappear  in  the  darkness 
of  the  brushy  woods,  baying,  barking,  yelping, 
squealing,  each  after  its  kind.  After  them  go  the 
whooping  hunters,  following  by  ear  as  the  dogs  do 
by  nose,  for  none  can  use  the  sense  of  sight.  They 
crash  through  the  bushes,  dodge  the  trees,  but  are 
tripped  up  by  the  roots,  stumble  over  logs  and 
rocks,  bruise  their  legs  against  stumps  and  snags, 
flounder  into  holes  and  puddles,  are  whipped  by 
elastic  branches,  scratched  by  briers,  pierced  by 
thorns,  drenched  with  dew,  and  spattered  with  mud 
and  dead  leaves.  The  strongest  get  far  ahead, 
and  calling  on  to  the  dogs  and  back  to  their  fellows, 
discourage  instead  of  aid  the  breathless  laggards 
by  their  lessening  voices. 


2Q2  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

Finally  a  chorus  of  eager  barking  in  a  different 
tone  from  what  has  thus  far  been  heard  announces 
to  experienced  ears  that  the  dogs  have  some  game 
at  bay.  The  hunters  dispute  as  to  what  it  is  as 
they  crash  and  stagger  on  through  the  gloom, 
each  swearing  he  knows  by  his  cur's  voice  what 
sort  of  an  animal  he  has  in  view.  Arrived  at  the 
scene  of  the  clamor,  the  dogs  are  found  in  frantic 
excitement  around  the  foot  of  a  tree,  in  whose 
shadowy  foliage  something  is  supposed  to  be  hid- 
den. Will  it  be  a  'coon,  or  will  it  turn  out  a  'pos- 
sum, a  wild-cat,  or  mayhap  an  owl  ? 

First  of  all  a  fire  is  lighted,  and  its  upreaching 
blaze  sends  fitful  rays  of  yellow  light  far  among 
the  overhanging  branches.  Now  there  may  be  dis- 
cerned a  hollow  near  the  summit  of  the  trunk,  and 
as  dead  branches  are  heaped  upon  the  fire  sharp 
eyes  may  detect  a  triangular  head  peering  out  of 
what  was  once,  perhaps,  the  front  door  of  a  wood- 
pecker's home,  and  glints  of  green  are  reported  to 
be  the  glare  of  a  raccoon's  eyes. 

To  shoot  him  there  would  now  be  easy  enough, 
but  the  eager  hunters  have  no  wish  to  dispose  of 
him  so  summarily.  They  have  other  uses  to  put 
him  to.  The  Iroquois  felt  the  same  way  when 
they  had  tracked  and  caught  a  Huron  or  a  Jesuit. 
The  nimblest  man  in  the  party  is  sent  up  the  tree, 
and  given  a  stick  wherewith  to  frighten  or  poke  or 
pry  the  cornered  animal  out  of  his  castle.  Com- 
pelled to  leave  the  hole,  it  creeps  out  upon  a  limb, 


A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  SEAR 


293 


and  squatting  down  snarls  at  the  stranger,  who 
tries  to  shake  loose  its  hold.  But  this  is  a  vain 
attempt.  A  raccoon  can  cling  like  a  burr.  Try  to 
drag  your  pet  'coon  off  the  top  of  a  fence,  and  if 
he  chooses  to  resist,  you  may  pull  him  limb  from 
limb  before  he  will  let  go.  So  they  take  the  severer 
method  of  chopping  the  branches,  until  the  poor 
little  beast  has  none  left  to  clutch  in  falling,  and 
comes  down  a  heap  of  fur  and  teeth  and  claws  into 
the  midst  of  the  dogs.  Instantly  there  follows  a 
scrimmage,  where  often  an  honest  bark  is  changed 
in  the  middle  to  a  yelp  of  pain,  until  many  a  time 
the  mel/e  changes  to  a  ring  of  hurt  and  angry  but 
vanquished  curs  around  a  'coon  lying  on  his  back, 
with  bloody  teeth  and  claws  ready  to  try  it  again ; 
and  then  he  is  shot  by  the  hunters,  merciless  to  the 
last.  More  often  the  whole  tree  must  be  cut  down, 
and  the  brave  'coon  falls  with  it,  and  is  dashed  out 
among  his  enemies  to  fight  for  his  life  at  the  end 
of  his  fall.  If  meanwhile  a  large  'possum  has  been 
taken  alive,  he  is  usually  pitted  against  the  'coon, 
and  it  is  even  betting  which  will  win.  This  noc- 
turnal foray,  where  the  prey  may  be  either  an 
opossum  or  a  raccoon,  or  perhaps  both,  and  now 
and  then  a  bear,  is  especially  the  sport  of  the 
Southern  negroes,  who  have  got  the  name  "  coons  " 
in  consequence, — that  is,  'coon-hunters. 

Young  ones  taken  on  these  expeditions  or  in 
traps  —  spring-traps  are  said  to  be  most  effective 
when  set  under  water,  beside  some  lily-coated  frog 


294  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

pond  —  are  often  kept  captive,  and  make  interest- 
ing pets.  They  must  be  kept  chained,  however, 
or  they  will  wander  away  and  forget  to  return ; 
and  also  because  of  their  mischievous  pranks. 
They  grow  slowly,  and  change  from  the  summer 
to  winter  pelage  by  the  loss  of  the  under-fur  in 
tufts,  replaced  by  longer  hair  than  forms  the  warm- 
weather  coat.  They  are  not  only  intelligent,  but 
show  marked  love  of  companionship,  a  pair  getting 
on  together  most  lovingly,  missing  each  other  very 
decidedly  when  separated,  and  exhibiting  some 
affection  for  their  master.  This,  however,  seems 
to  depend,  as  it  should,  upon  the  animal's  appre- 
ciation of  kindness,  for  an  abusive  person  will  ex- 
cite an  undying  enmity.  Godman  found  that  the 
common  fear  of  their  biting  was  not  justified  by 
their  disposition,  those  he  kept  being  entirely  harm- 
less even  to  little  children  ;  but  they  always  in- 
stinctively bite  when  suddenly  hurt,  as  might  often 
happen  from  a  careless  child.  He  mentions  that 
his  young  raccoons  would  spring  in  a  fury  and  bite 
at  the  leg  of  a  table  or  corner  of  a  door  against 
which  they  had  knocked  themselves  in  their  play. 
Dr.  Godman's  account  contains  many  other  inter- 
esting and  suggestive  particulars  as  to  their  habits. 
Another  excellent  history  of  pet  raccoons  is  con- 
tained in  Merriam's  "  Mammals  of  the  Adirondacks," 
showing  among  other  things  their  innate  inquisi- 
tiveness  and  propensity  for  mischief,  so  that  it  will 
not  do  to  give  them  the  liberty  a  pet  skunk  enjoys. 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR         29$ 

"  If  not  closely  watched  they  will  slyly  enter  the 
house  through  some  open  door  or  window,  and  are 
liable  to  do  considerable  damage,  for  their  natural 
curiosity  prompts  them  to  examine  everything 
within  reach,  and  anything  out  of  reach  of  a  'coon 
must  be  inaccessible  indeed.  They  invariably 
manifest  an  insatiable  desire  to  investigate  the 
pantry  shelves,  and  rarely  neglect  to  taste  every 
edible  thing  that  happens  to  be  there.  They  have 
a  special  penchant  for  sweetmeats,  and  greedily 
devour  preserves,  honey,  molasses,  sugar,  pies,  and 
cakes ;  and  even  bread,  butter,  lard,  milk,  etc., 
are  by  no  means  disregarded.  They  remove  the 
covers  from  jars  and  pails,  and  uncork  bottles, 
with  as  much  ease  and  facility,  apparently,  as  if 
they  had  been  instructed  in  this  art  from  earliest 
infancy.  Doors  that  latch,  as  they  do  in  most  old 
country  houses,  are  soon  opened,  even  by  unso- 
phisticated 'coons,  and  it  takes  them  but  a  short 
time  to  acquire  the  method  of  opening  knob  doors. 
Their  fore  paws  are  employed  as  hands,  and  can 
be  put  to  almost  as  great  a  variety  of  uses  as  those 
of  the  monkey, — which  animal  they  further  re- 
semble in  the  propensity  for  mischief-making." 

The  common  raccoon  is  about  thirty-three  inches 
in  length,  of  which  from  ten  to  eleven  inches  rep- 
resent the  tail ;  and  when  in  good  condition  it  will 
weigh  about  twenty  pounds.  The  prevailing  color 
is  light  gray,  tinged  with  pale  rusty  across  the 
shoulders  and  much  overlaid  with  black-tipped 


296  WILD  NEIGHBORS  CHAP. 

hairs.  The  under  parts  are  of  a  similar  gray, 
without  the  black  tips,  and,  like  the  rest  of  the 
body,  allow  the  dull  sooty  brown  under-fur  to  show 
through.  The  upper  surfaces  of  the  feet  are 
whitish,  the  hind  feet  being  about  4  inches  in 
length,  and  the  fore  feet  2f  inches.  The  brush  of 
the  tail  is  nearly  uniform  in  diameter  (2^  to  3 
inches)  throughout,  only  the  end  being  rounded 
off.  It  has  five  distinct  black  rings,  separated  by 
grayish  rusty  intervals  of  about  the  same  width, 
and  the  tip  is  black.  The  face  shows  a  large 
oblique  black  patch  on  each  cheek,  continuous 
with  paler  ones  beneath  the  jaws,  and  others  be- 
hind the  ears,  which  are  whitish ;  this  gives  a 
spectacled  appearance  to  the  front  face.  The 
muzzle  is  naked  and  flexible.  Specimens  have 
been  seen  nearly  black  all  over,  and  albinos  are 
not  infrequent. 

The  pelt  of  the  raccoon  is  a  valuable  object 
when  taken  in  cold  weather,  when  the  animal  is 
in  good  condition.  The  fur  is  thick  and  warm, 
and  the  skin  very  durable.  Hence  it  is  in  large 
demand  in  Canada  and  northern  Europe  for  mak- 
ing coats,  such  as  are  worn  by  drivers  and  others 
that  can  afford  something  a  little  better  than  the 
sheepskin  of  the  Russian  peasant.  North  America 
furnishes  half  a  million  skins  a  year,  nearly  all 
of  which  are  trapped  in  the  region  of  the  Great 
Lakes.  The  hair  has  been  famous  for  felting 
purposes  ever  since  the  little  beast  became  known 


X  A  LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR          297 

to  the  pioneer  fur-traders ;  and  vast  quantities  of 
it  are  consumed  in  Germany  and  elsewhere  to-day 
in  the  manufacture  of  hats.  A  'coon-skin  cap 
used  to  be  the  common  headgear  of  the  Western 
man  of  the  early  part  of  the  century,  and  many  of 
Washington's  hardiest  soldiers  wore  them  with 
the  ringed  tail  drooping  behind  as  a  barbaric  orna- 
ment. The  fur  of  the  South  American  species  is 
shorter  and  less  dense. 

Let  us  bid  the  'coon  farewell  in  the  pleasant 
language  of  Rowland  Robinson  : 

"This  little  brother  of  the  bear  is  one  of  the 
few  remaining  links  that  connect  us  with  the  old 
times,  when  there  were  trees  older  than  living 
men,  when  all  the  world  had  not  entered  for  the 
race  to  gain  the  prize  of  wealth,  or  place,  or 
renown  ;  when  it  was  the  sum  of  all  happiness  for 
some  of  us  to  'go  a-'cooning.'  It  is  pleasant  to 
see  the  tracks  of  this  midnight  prowler,  this  de- 
spoiler  of  cornfields,  imprinted  in  the  mud  of  the 
lane  or  along  the  soft  margin  of  the  brook,  to 
know  that  he  survives,  though  he  may  not  be  the 
fittest.  When  he  has  gone  forever,  those  who  out- 
live him  will  know  whether  it  was  his  quavering  note 
that  jarred  the  still  air  of  the  early  fall  evenings, 
or  if  it  was  only  the  voice  of  the  owl  —  if  he,  too, 
shall  not  then  have  gone  the  inevitable  way  of  all 
the  wild  world." 


INDEX 


ANIMAL  TRAINING  AND  ANIMAL 
INTELLIGENCE,  157-185. 

Animals  varying  in  color  with  local- 
ity, 27. 

Ant-eater,    Great    (Myrmecophaga 


Armadillos,  67. 

BADGER,  THE,  AND  HIS  KIN,  119- 
154  ;  American  (  Taxidea  ameri- 
cana),  134,  154. 

Badger-baiting  as  a  sport,  145. 

Badger,  Mexican.     See  Tejon. 

Badgers,  Old  World,  137;    tame, 

153- 
Bat,  a    fish-eating   (Noctilio  lepo- 

rinus),  73. 
Beaver,  American    (  Castor  fiber)  , 

7i,  132- 

Birds,  educated  and  performing, 
159  ;  making  friends  with  men, 
120  ;  tails  of,  63,  78,  80,  92. 

Bobcat  (lynx)  ,  62. 

Bulls,  educated,  178. 

Burrowing  animals,  considered,  142. 

Carnivora,  education  of,  162. 
Catamount,  name,  36. 
Cats,  performing,  185. 
Chipmunk  or  ground-squirrel,  28. 
Color  in  animals,  27,  29,  34,  37,  236. 
Color-marks  in  burrowing  animals, 
147. 


Colors,  warning,  235,  242. 
Conepate     (Conepatus    mapurito), 

248. 

Cougar.    See  Puma. 
Courage  in  beasts  of  prey,  41. 
Coyote,  the  (  Cants  latrans) ,  99-1 16 ; 

and  antelope,  in;  cunning  and 

wariness    of,    114 ;    hunting    in 

Nicaragua,  102. 
Crocodiles,  power  of  the  tails  of, 

80,  82. 
Crustacea,  egg-carrying,  69. 

Dog,  education  of,  180. 
Donkeys,  trained,  178. 

Elephants,  69, 156. 
Eyra  (Felis  eyra) ,  37. 

FATHER  OF  GAME,  THE,  33-58. 
Fishes,  uses  of  tails  of,  74,  77,  79. 
Flying-squirrel  and  birds'  eggs,  23. 
Fox-squirrel  (Sciurus  niger) ,  28. 

Greyhound,  origin  of  the,  145. 
Ground-hog.    See  Woodchuck. 
Ground-lizard  (Oligosoma  laterale) , 
78. 

Hagenbeck's  trained-animal  circus, 

163. 

Hermit-crab  (Eupagurus),(&. 
Horses,  performing,  175. 


299 


INDEX 


Horse-foot    crab    (Limulus   poly- 

pAemus),  71. 
HOUND  OF  THE  PLAINS,  THE,  99- 

116. 

Jaguar  (Felis  onca),  33,  34,  37,  48. 
Jaguarondi  (Felis  jaguarondi  )  ,  137. 
Jerboa  kangaroo,  75. 

Kangaroos,  use  of  the  tail,  75. 
King-crab   (Limulus  polyphemus), 


Lion-taming  and  training,  165. 
LITTLE  BROTHER  OF  THE  BEAR, 

A,  272-296. 

Lizards,  fragile  tails  of,  83. 
Lynx,  the  common  (Lynx  rufus), 

62.189. 

"  Mammal,"  as  a  convenient  term, 

119. 
Mammals,  effect  of  civilization  on, 

lai  ;  fishing,  72,  73. 
Margay  (Felis  tigrina),  37. 
Marmot,  the  Maryland.    See  Wood- 

chuck. 

Melanism,  29. 
Mice,  tails   of,  87;    trained,  183; 

wild,  121. 

Migration  of  squirrels,  16. 
Moles,  American,  128. 
Mollusks,  as  diggers,  72. 
Monkeys,  education,  161  ;  prehen- 

sile tails  of,  77. 
Mountain  lion.    See  Puma. 
Mules,  trained,  178. 
Muskrat  (Fiber  zibetkicus),  71. 

NEW  ENGLANDER,  A  NATURAL, 
251-271. 


Ocelot  (Felis par dalis),  37. 
Opossum  (Didelphys  virginiana), 

7°.  77- 
Otter,  the  American  (Lutra  cana- 

densis),  132. 

Pangolin  (Manis  pentadactyld) ,  67, 
77 ;  (Manis  tricuspis),  6s. 

Panther.    See  Puma. 

Peacock-pheasants,  65. 

Pig,  education  of,  179. 

Porcupine,  the  Canada  (Eretkizon 
dorsata} ,  188-206 ;  European 
(Hystrix  cristatd) ,  203  ;  tree,  195. 

Porcupine-quills,  in  ornaments,  201. 

Porcupines,  Old  World,  205. 

Porcupines,  tails  of  as  weapons,  81, 
191. 

Protective  coloring,  37,  236. 

Puma  (Felis  concolor) ,  the,  33-58 ; 
breeding  of,  42 ;  hunting  methods 
of,  46,  95,  189 ;  origin  of  names 
°f.  35.  36 !  screaming  of,  52. 

Rabbits,  educated,  182. 

Raccoon,  the  common  (Procyon 
later),  272-296;  the  crab-eating 
(Procyon  cancrivorus) ,  275. 

Raccoon-hunting,  290. 

Rats,  trained,  183 ;  use  of  tail  by, 

73- 

Rattlesnake,  rattling  of,  95. 
Recognition  colors,  90,  147,  236. 

Sand-badger  (Arctonyx  collaris) , 
137,  248. 

Sea-horses  (Hippocampus),  78. 

Shrews,  American,  127. 

SKUNK,  THE,  CALMLY  CONSID- 
ERED, 209-248;  the  North 
American  (Mephitis  mephitica). 


INDEX 


301 


209-248 ;  little  striped  (Spilogale), 
247 ;  means  of  defence,  234 ; 
remedies  supplied  by,  244 ;  white- 
backed  (Conepatus  mapurito), 
248. 

Snail  (Helicarion) ,  with  fragile 
tail,  85. 

Snakes,  education  of,  159 ;  nervous 
tail  of,  95. 

SQUIRRELS,  OUR  GRAY,  1-30;  and 
bluejays,  20;  black,  29;  fox 
(Sciurus  niger) ,  28  ;  flying  (Sciu- 
ropterus  volucella) ,  23 ;  gray  (Sci- 
.  urus  carotin fttsis) ,  1-30;  gray, 
migration  of,  16 ;  ground,  28 ; 
melanism  and  albinism  in,  29; 
red  (Sciurus  hudsonius),  26,  30. 

Sting-ray  (Dasybatis  centrums),  89. 

Stinking  badger.    See  Teledu. 

Surgeon-fish  (Acanthurus  xan- 
thopterus) ,  90. 

Swifts,  spiny  tails  of,  78,  79. 

TAILS,  THE  SERVICE  OF,  61-96 ;  as 
objects  of  attack,  85,  88 ;  pecul- 


iarity of  tips  of,  93 ;  prehensile, 
70,77;  tufted,  discussed,  76,  85, 
91,  94;  used  in  swimming,  79. 

Tejon  (Tax idea  berlandiert) ,  138. 

Teledu  (Mydaus  meliceps),  137, 
248. 

Th  resh  er-shark  ( Alopias  vulpes) ,  82. 

Tree-porcupines  (Synetheres) ,  195. 

Tricks  taught  to  animals  unwisely, 
182. 

Wallabies.    See  Kangaroo. 
Wolf,  barking  or  red.    See  Coyote. 
Wolf,    gray    (Can is   lupus),    101 ; 

prairie    (coyote),  99;    mountain 

or  timber,  101. 
Wolves,  educated,  182. 
Woodchuck,  the  (Arctomys  monax), 

251-271 ;  superstitions  as  to  the, 

269. 

WOODLAND  CODGER,  A,  188-206. 
Woodpeckers,  tail-supports  of,  78. 

Zebra,  education  of,  178. 


THE   STANDARD   SCHOOL  LIBRARY. 

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BAILEY.  LESSONS  WITH  PLANTS.  Suggestions  for  Seeing  and 
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This  volume  is  the  outgrowth  of  "  observation  lessons."  The 
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follows. 

BARNES.  YANKEE  SHIPS  AND  YANKEE  SAILORS.  Tales  of 
1812.  By  James  Barnes.  12mo.  Illustrated,  xiii  +  281 
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Fourteen  spirited  tales  of  the  gallant  defenders  of  the  Chesa- 
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1 


BUCK.  BOYS'  SELF-GOVERNING  CLUBS.  By  Winifred  Buck. 
16mo.  x  +  218  pages. 

The  history  of  self-governing  clubs,  with  directions  for  their 
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CARROLL.     ALICE'S   ADVENTURES   IN    WONDERLAND.     By 

Lewis  Carroll.     12mo.     Illustrated,     xiv  +  192  pages. 

CARROLL.  THROUGH  THE  LOOKING  GLASS  AND  WHAT 
ALICE  FOUND  THERE.  By  Lewis  Carroll.  12mo.  Illus- 
trated, xv  +  224  pages. 

The  authorized  edition  of  these  children's  classics.  They  have 
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CHURCH.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  ILIAD.  By  Rev.  A.  J.  Church, 
vii  +  314  pages. 

CHURCH.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  ODYSSEY.  By  Rev.  A.  J. 
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The  two  great  epics  are  retold  in  prose  by  one  of  the  best  of 
story-tellers.  The  Greek  atmosphere  is  remarkably  well  preserved. 

CRADDOCK.     THE     STORY     OF     OLD     FORT     LOUDON.     By 

Charles  Egbert  Craddock.    12mo.   Illustrated,   v  -f  409  pages. 

A  story  of  pioneer  life  in  Tennessee  at  the  time  of  the  Cherokee 
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CROCKETT.  RED  CAP  TALES.  By  S.  R.  Crockett.  8vo. 
Illustrated,  xii  +  413  pages. 

The  volume  consists  of  a  number  of  tales  told  in  succession 
from  four  of  Scott's  novels  —  "  Waverley,"  "  Guy  Mannering," 
"Rob  Roy,"  and  "The  Antiquary";  with  a  break  here  and  there 
while  the  children  to  whom  they  are  told  discuss  the  story  just 
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Scott's  novels  could  be  imagined  or  contrived.  Half  a  dozen  or 
more  tales  are  given  from  each  book. 


DIX.  A  LITTLE  CAPTIVE  LAD.  By  Beulah  Marie  Dix.  12mo. 
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The  story  is  laid  in  the  time  of  Cromwell,  and  the  captive  lad 
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times. 

EGGLESTON.  SOUTHERN  SOLDIER  STORIES.  By  George 
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Forty-seven  stories  illustrating  the  heroism  of  those  brave 
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and  pathos  are  found  side  by  side  in  these  pages  which  bear  evi- 
dence of  absolute  truth. 

ELSON.     SIDE  LIGHTS  ON  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 

This  volume  takes  a  contemporary  view  of  the  leading  events  in 
the  history  of  the  country  from  the  period  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  to  the  close  of  the  Spanish-American  War.  The 
result  is  a  very  valuable  series  of  studies  in  many  respects  more 
interesting  and  informing  than  consecutive  history. 

GAYE.  THE  GREAT  WORLD'S  FARM.  Some  Account  of 
Nature's  Crops  and  How  they  are  Sown.  By  Selina  Gaye. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xii  +  365  pages. 

A  readable  account  of  plants  and  how  they  live  and  grow.  It 
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GREENE.  PICKETT'S  GAP.  By  Homer  Greene.  12mo.  Illus- 
trated, vii +  288  pages. 

A  story  of  American  life  and  character  illustrated  in  the  per- 
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and  the  lessons  in  morals  and  character  are  such  as  will  appeal  to 
every  honest  instinct. 

HAPGOOD.     ABRAHAM     LINCOLN.     By     Norman     Hapgood. 

12mo.     Illustrated,     xiii  +  433  pages. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  one-volume  biographies  of  Lincoln,  and  a 
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HAPGOOD.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  By  Norman  Hapgood. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xi  +  419  pages. 

Not  the  semi-mythical  Washington  of  some  biographers,  but  a 
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HOLDEN.  REAL  THINGS  IN  NATURE.  A  Reading  Book  ol 
Science  for  American  Boys  and  Girls.  By  Edward  S.  Holden. 
Illustrated.  12mo.  xxxviii  +  443  pages. 

The  topics  are  grouped  under  nine  general  heads:  Astronomy, 
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Human  Body,  and  The  Early  History  of  Mankind.  The  various 
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questions  continually  arising  in  the  minds  of  youths  at  an  age 
when  habits  of  thought  for  life  are  being  formed. 

HUFFORD.  SHAKESPEARE  IN  TALE  AND  VERSE.  By  Lois 
Grosvenor  Hufford.  12mo.  ix  +  445  pages. 

The  purpose  of  the  author  is  to  introduce  Shakespeare  to  such 
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somewhat  difficult  to  manage.  The  stories  which  constitute  the 
main  plots  are  given,  and  are  interspersed  with  the  dramatic 
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HUGHES.  TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL  DAYS.  By  Thomas  Hughes. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xxi  +  376  pages. 

An  attractive  and  convenient  edition  of  this  great  story  of  life 
at  Rugby.  It  is  a  book  that  appeals  to  boys  everywhere  and 
which  makes  for  manliness  and  high  ideals. 

HUTCHINSON.  THE  STORY  OF  THE  HILLS.  A  Book  about 
Mountains  for  General  Readers.  By  Rev.  H.  W.  Hutchinson. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xv  +  357  pages. 

"A  clear  account  of  the  geological  formation  of  mountains  and 
their  various  methods  of  origin  in  language  so  clear  and  untech- 
nical  that  it  will  not  confuse  even  the  most  unscientific."  — 
Boston  Evening  Transcript. 


ILLINOIS  GIRL.  A  PRAIRIE  WINTER.  By  an  Illinois  Girl. 
16mo.  164  pages. 

A  record  of  the  procession  of  the  months  from  midway  in  Septem- 
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and  sympathetic,  and  they  are  interspersed  with  glimpses  of  a 
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INGERSOLL.  WILD  NEIGHBORS.  OUTDOOR  STUDIES  IN 
THE  UNITED  STATES.  By  Ernest  Ingersoll.  12mo. 
Illustrated,  xii  +  301  pages. 

Studies  and  stories  of  the  gray  squirrel,  the  puma,  the  coyote, 
the  badger,  and  other  burrowers,  the  porcupine,  the  skunk,  the 
woodchuck,  and  the  raccoon. 

INMAN.  THE  RANCH  ON  THE  OXHIDE.  By  Henry  Inman. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xi  +  297  pages. 

A  story  of  pioneer  life  in  Kansas  in  the  late  sixties.  Adventures 
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narrative. 

JOHNSON.  CERVANTES'  DON  QUIXOTE.  Edited  by  Clifton 
Johnson.  12mo.  Illustrated,  xxiii  +  398  pages. 

A  well-edited  edition  of  this  classic.  The  one  effort  has  been  to 
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essential  incident  or  detail,  and  at  the  same  time  to  make  the  text 
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JUDSON.  THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  AMERICAN  NATION.  By 
Harry  Pratt  Judson.  12mo.  Illustrations  and  maps, 
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The  cardinal  facts  of  American  History  are  grasped  in  such  a 
way  as  to  show  clearly  the  orderly  development  of  national  life. 

KEARY.  THE  HEROES  OF  ASGARD:  TALES  FROM  SCANDI- 
NAVIAN MYTHOLOGY.  By  A.  and  E.  Keary.  12mo. 
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The  book  is  divided  into  nine  chapters,  called  "The  ^Esir," 
"How  Thor  went  to  Jotunheim,"  "  Frey,"  "The  Wanderings  of 
Freyja,"  "  Iduna's  Apples,"  "Baldur,"  "The  Binding  of  Fenrir," 
"The  Punishment  of  Loki,"  "Ragnarok." 


6 

KING.  DE  SOTO  AND  HIS  MEN  IN  THE  LAND  OF  FLORIDA. 
By  Grace  King.  12mo.  Illustrated,  xiv  +  326  pages. 

A  story  based  upon  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  accounts  of  the 
attempted  conquest  by  the  armada  which  sailed  under  De  Soto  in 
1538  to  subdue  this  country.  Miss  King  gives  a  most  entertain- 
ing history  of  the  invaders'  struggles  and  of  their  final  demoralized 
rout;  while  her  account  of  the  native  tribes  is  a  most  attractive 
feature  of  the  narrative. 

KINGSLEY.  MAD  AM  HOW  AND  LADY  WHY:  FIRST  LESSONS 
IN  EARTH  LORE  FOR  CHILDREN.  By  Charles  Kingsley. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xviii+321  pages. 

Madam  How  and  Lady  Why  are  two  fairies  who  teach  the  how 
and  why  of  things  in  nature.  There  are  chapters  on  Earthquakes, 
Volcanoes,  Coral  Reefs,  Glaciers,  etc.,  told  in  an  interesting  man- 
ner. The  book  is  intended  to  lead  children  to  use  their  eyes  and 
ears. 

KINGSLEY.  THE  WATER  BABIES:  A  FAIRY  TALE  FOR  A 
LAND  BABY.  By  Charles  Kingsley.  12mo.  Illustrated. 
330  pages. 

One  of  the  best  children's  stories  ever  written;  it  has  deservedly 
become  a  classic. 

LANGE.  OUR  NATIVE  BIRDS:  HOW  TO  PROTECT  THEM 
AND  ATTRACT  THEM  TO  OUR  HOMES.  By  D.  Lange. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  x  +  162  pages. 

A  strong  plea  for  the  protection  of  birds.  Methods  and  devices 
for  their  encouragement  are  given,  also  a  bibliography  of  helpful 
literature,  and  material  for  Bird  Day. 

LOVELL.      STORIES    IN    STONE    FROM  THE  ROMAN  FORUM. 

By  Isabel  Lovell.     12mo.     Illustrated,     viii  +  258  pages. 

The  eight  stories  in  this  volume  give  many  facts  that  travelers 
wish  to  know,  that  historical  readers  seek,  and  that  young  students 
enjoy.  The  book  puts  the  reader  in  close  touch  with  Roman  life. 

McFARLAND.  GETTING  ACQUAINTED  WITH  THE  TREES. 
By  J.  Horace  McFarland.  8vo.  Illustrated,  xi  +  241  pages. 

A  charmingly  written  series  of  tree  essays.  They  are  not 
scientific  but  popular,  and  are  the  outcome  of  the  author's  desire 
that  others  should  share  the  rest  and  comfort  that  have  come  to 
him  through  acquaintance  with  trees. 


MAJOR.  THE  BEARS  OF  BLUE  RIVER.  By  Charles  Major. 
12mo.  Illustrated.  277  pages. 

A  collection  of  good  bear  stories  with  a  live  boy  for  the  hero. 
The  scene  is  laid  in  the  early  days  of  Indiana. 

MARSHALL.  WINIFRED'S  JOURNAL.  By  Emma  Marshall. 
12mo.  Illustrated.  353  pages. 

A  story  of  the  time  of  Charles  the  First.  Some  of  the  characters 
are  historical  personages. 

MEANS.  PALMETTO  STORIES.  By  Celina  E.  Means.  12mo. 
Illustrated,  x  +  244  pages. 

True  accounts  of  some  of  the  men  and  women  who  made  the 
history  of  South  Carolina,  and  correct  pictures  of  the  conditions 
under  which  these  men  and  women  labored. 

MORRIS.  MAN  AND  HIS  ANCESTOR:  A  STUDY  IN  EVOLU- 
TION. By  Charles  Morris.  16mo.  Illustrated,  vii  +  238 
pages. 

A  popular  presentation  of  the  subject  of  man's  origin.  The 
various  significant  facts  that  have  been  discovered  since  Darwin's 
time  are  given,  as  well  as  certain  lines  of  evidence  never  before 
presented  in  this  conn<-  tion. 

NEWBOLT.     STORIES  FROM   FROISSART.     By  Henry  Newbolt. 

12mo.     Illustrated,     xxxi  +  368  pages. 

Here  are  given  entire  thirteen  episodes  from  the  "Chronicles'" 
of  Sir  John  Froissart.  The  text  is  modernized  sufficiently  to  make 
it  intelligible  to  young  readers.  Separated  narratives  are  dove- 
tailed, and  new  translations  have  been  made  where  necessary  to 
make  the  narrative  complete  and  easily  readable. 

OVERTON.  THE  CAPTAIN'S  DAUGHTER.  By  Gwendolen 
Overton.  12mo.  Illustrated,  vii  +  270  pages. 

A  story  of  girl  life  at  an  army  post  on  the  frontier.  The  plot  is 
an  absorbing  one,  and  the  interest  of  the  reader  is  held  to  the  end. 

PALGRAVE.  THE  CHILDREN'S  TREASURY  OF  ENGLISH 
SONG.  Selected  and  arranged  by  Francis  Turner  Palgrave. 
16mo.  viii  +  302  pages. 

This  collection  contains  168  selections  —  songs,  narratives, 
descriptive  or  reflective  pieces  of  a  lyrical  quality,  all  suited  to  the 
taste  and  understanding  of  children. 


8 

PALMER.  STORIES  FROM  THE  CLASSICAL  LITERATURE 
OF  MANY  NATIONS.  Edited  by  Bertha  Palmer.  12mo. 
xv  +  297  pages. 

A  collection  of  sixty  characteristic  stories  from  Chinese,  Japa- 
nese, Hebrew,  Babylonian,  Arabian,  Hindu,  Greek,  Roman, 
German,  Scandinavian,  Celtic,  Russian,  Italian,  French,  Spanish, 
Portuguese,  Anglo-Saxon,  English,  Finnish,  and  American  Indian 
sources. 

RIIS.  CHILDREN  OF  THE  TENEMENTS.  By  Jacob  A.  Riis. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  ix  +  387  pages. 

Forty  sketches  and  short  stories  dealing  with  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  life  in  the  slums  of  New  York  City,  told  just  as  they 
came  to  the  writer,  fresh  from  the  life  of  the  people. 

SANDYS.  TRAPPER  JIM.  By  Edwyn  Sandys.  12mo.  Illus- 
trated, ix  +  441  pages. 

A  book  which  will  delight  every  normal  boy.  Jim  is  a  city  lad 
who  learns  from  an  older  cousin  all  the  lore  of  outdoor  life  — 
trapping,  shooting,  fishing,  camping,  swimming,  and  canoeing. 
The  author  is  a  well-known  writer  on  outdoor  subjects. 

SEXTON.  STORIES  OF  CALIFORNIA.  By  Ella  M.  Sexton. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  x  +  211  pages. 

Twenty-two  stories  illustrating  the  early  conditions  and  the 
romantic  history  of  California  and  the  subsequent  development 
of  the  state. 

SHARP.  THE  YOUNGEST  GIRL  IN  THE  SCHOOL.  By  Evelyn 
Sharp.  12mo.  Illustrated,  ix  +  326  pages. 

Bab,  the  "  youngest  girl,"  was  only  eleven  and  the  pet  of  five 
brothers.  Her  ups  and  downs  in  a  strange  boarding  school  make 
an  interesting  story. 

SPARKS.  THE  MEN  WHO  MADE  THE  NATION:  AN  OUTLINE 
OF  UNITED  STATES  HISTORY  FROM  1776  TO  1861.  By 
Edwin  E.  Sparks.  12mo.  Illustrated,  viii  -f  415  pages. 

The  author  has  chosen  to  tell  our  history  by  selecting  the  one 
man  at  various  periods  of  our  affairs  who  was  master  of  the  situ- 
ation and  about  whom  events  naturally  grouped  themselves. 
The  characters  thus  selected  number  twelve,  as  "  Samuel  Adams, 
the  man  of  the  town  meeting"  ;  "Robert  Morris,  the  financier  of 
the  Revolution";  "Hamilton,  the  advocate  of  stronger  govern- 
ment," etc.,  etc. 


THACHER.  THE  LISTENING  CHILD.  A  selection  from  the 
stories  of  English  verse,  made  for  the  youngest  readers  and 
hearers.  By  Lucy  W.  Thacher.  12mo.  xxx  +  408  pages. 

Under  this  title  are  gathered  two  hundred  and  fifty  selections. 
The  arrangement  is  most  intelligent,  as  shown  in  the  proportions 
assigned  to  different  authors  and  periods.  Much  prominence  i,s 
given  to  purely  imaginative  writers.  The  preliminary  essay,  "A 
Short  Talk  to  Children  about  Poetry,"  is  full  of  suggestion. 

WALLACE.  UNCLE  HENRY'S  LETTERS  TO  THE  FARM 
BOY.  By  Henry  Wallace.  16mo.  ix  +  180  pages. 

Eighteen  letters  on  habits,  education,  business,  recreation,  and 
kindred  subjects. 

WEED.  LIFE  HISTORIES  OF  AMERICAN  INSECTS.  By 
Clarence  Moores  Weed.  12mo.  Illustrated,  xii  +  272  pages. 

In  these  pages  are  described  by  an  enthusiastic  student  of 
entomology  such  changes  as  may  often  be  seen  in  an  insect's 
form,  and  which  mark  the  progress  of  its  life.  He  shows  how  very 
wide  a  field  of  interesting  facts  is  within  reach  of  any  one  who  has 
the  patience  to  collect  these  little  creatures. 

WELLS.  THE  JINGLE  BOOK.  By  Carolyn  Wells.  12mo. 
Illustrated,  viii  +  124  pages. 

A  collection  of  fifty  delightful  jingles  and  nonsense  verses.  .The 
illustrations  by  Oliver  Herford  do  justice  to  the  text. 

WILSON.  DOMESTIC  SCIENCE  IN  GRAMMAR  GRADES.  A 
Reader.  By  Lucy  L.  W.  Wilson.  12mo.  ix  +  193  pages. 

Descriptions  of  homes  and  household  customs  of  all  ages  and 
countries,  studies  of  materials  and  industries,  glimpses  of  the 
homes  of  literature,  and  articles  on  various  household  subjects. 

WILSON.  HISTORY  READER  FOR  ELEMENTARY  SCHOOLS. 
By  Lucy  L.  W.  Wilson.  16mo.  Illustrated,  xvii  +  403 


Stories  grouped  about  the  greatest  men  and  the  most  striking 
events  in  our  country's  history.  The  readings  run  by  months, 
beginning  with  September. 

WILSON.     PICTURE  STUDY  IN  ELEMENTARY  SCHOOLS.     By 
Lucy  L.  W.  Wilson.     12mo.     Illustrated. 


10 

Ninety  half-tone  reproductions  from  celebrated  paintings  both 
old  and  modern,  accompanied  by  appropriate  readings  from  the 
poets.  All  schools  of  art  are  represented. 

WRIGHT.  HEART  OF  NATURE.  By  Mabel  Osgood  Wright. 
12mo.  Illustrated. 

This  volume  comprises  "Stories  of  Plants  and  Animals," 
"  Stories  of  Earth  and  Sky,"  and  "  Stories  of  Birds  and  Beasts," 
usually  published  in  three  volumes  and  known  as  "The  Heart  of 
Nature  Series."  It  is  a  delightful  combination  of  story  and 
nature  study,  the  author's  name  being  a  sufficient  warrant  for  its 
interest  and  fidelity  to  nature. 

WRIGHT.  FOUR-FOOTED  AMERICANS  AND  THEIR  KIN.  By 
Mabel  Osgood  Wright,  edited  by  Frank  Chapman.  12mo. 
Illustrated,  xv  +  432  pages. 

An  animal  book  in  story  form.  The  scene  shifts  from  farm  to 
woods,  and  back  to  an  old  room,  fitted  as  a  sort  of  winter  camp, 
where  vivid  stories  of  the  birds  and  beasts  which  cannot  be  seen 
at  home  are  told  by  the  campfire,  —  the  sailor  who  has  hunted  the 
sea,  the  woodman,  the  mining  engineer,  and  wandering  scientist, 
each  taking  his  turn.  A  useful  family  tree  of  North  American 
Mammals  is  added. 

WRIGHT.  DOGTOWN.  By  Mabel  Osgood  Wright.  12mo. 
Illustrated,  xiii  +  405  pages. 

"Dogtown"  was  a  neighborhood  so  named  because  so  many 
people  loved  and  kept  dogs.  For  it  is  a  story  of  people  as  well  as 
of  dogs,  and  several  of  the  people  as  well  as  the  dogs  are  old  friends^ 
having  been  met  in  Mrs.  Wright's  other  books. 

YONGE.  LITTLE  LUCY'S  WONDERFUL  GLOBE.  By  Char- 
lotte M.  Yonge.  12mo.  Illustrated,  xi  +  140  pages. 

An  interesting  and  ingenious  introduction  to  geography.  In 
her  dreams  Lucy  visits  the  children  of  various  lands  and  thus 
learns  much  of  the  habits  and  customs  of  these  countries. 

YONGE.  UNKNOWN  TO  HISTORY.  By  Charlotte  M.  Yonge. 
12mo.  Illustrated,  xi  +  589  pages. 

A  story  of  the  captivity  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  told  in  the 
author's  best  vein. 


DATE  DUE 


DEMCO  38-297 


LIBRARY  FACILITY 


Wild  neighbors:  out-door 
studies  in  the  United 
States . 


153 
1906 

Ingersoll,  Ernest 

Wild  neighbors:  out  -door 
studies  in  the  United 
States. 

AGRICULTURAL  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

CITRUS  RESEARCH  CENTER  AND 

AGRICULTURAL  EXPERIMENT  SIATION 

RIVERSIDE,  CALIFORNIA 


